


Alone Together

by Fueled_by_Revenge



Series: Haunted Grounds [3]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Mindless Self Indulgence, Motion City Soundtrack (Band), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Condoms, Detox, Drug Abuse, Facials, Getting Back Together, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Rehabilitation, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, safe sex, strap ons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 59,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fueled_by_Revenge/pseuds/Fueled_by_Revenge
Summary: "Let's be alone together," started as a motto to help Patrick and Gerard get them through their hard times, but between rehab and starting a band, the two of them really have to rely on one another to get through the worst that's still ahead of them.Part three of the Haunted Grounds series.





	1. Because you're the only hope for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "The Only Hope For Me Is You" by My Chemical Romance

"So you mean to tell me uncircumcised dicks freak you out?" Gerard was walking around in his pajamas in his apartment while continuing his conversation with Patrick by shouting through the walls. He had no idea how they got onto this topic, but he wasn't going to stop it once Patrick got going on a rant.

"Never slept with one, and I don't plan on it," the younger man was eating pizza out of the box while taking a bath. It was technically his idea for dinner last night after he already eaten his leftover Chinese and now it was making for a good cold breakfast that pizza. He hadn't left the apartment since he first got in it after the art gallery showing and he was afraid to leave; like he'd never get back in if he left.

"I now have a mental image of every guy's dick you've ever been with now," Gerard shook his head trying to get the image out when he walked back into his room.

"None of them are the same though. I've learned more about dicks from being a cocksucker than the Internet ever could show me," the young man said and then took a bite of his pizza when he saw that his newly reunited boyfriend was back in the conjoined bedroom. "Like the Irish curse."

"The Irish curse?" Gerard repeated.

"All potatoes and no meat," Patrick giggled as he said it. "Like you're like the opposite. I don't know what that would be called, but you're the opposite of the Irish curse."

"You know that technically you have an uncircumcised penis," the older man smarted off to get the conversation off of his balls, literally. "Totally has a little hood on it and everything."

"Well when I can afford to upgrade it, it won't be," Patrick tried to say back but his mouth was full.

Gerard came back into the bathroom to grab a slice as he sat on the seat of the toilet once the lid was down. "What would you have done if I wasn't cut?"

"I've never slept with one, keyword: slept," the boy said with his mouth finally empty. "I would have sucked you off, horribly, and made it seem like I wasn't into you or that I was a really bad lay."

"So we never would have gone through all the crap we have if I wasn't cut? You would have dumped me right there?" the older man said with the slice still dangling from his fingers.

"Basically," Patrick admitted.

"So my parents' decision to have me circumcised has, in some way or another, lead to you eating pizza in my bathtub?" Gerard chuckled.

"Exactly," the boy giggled at the thought. The weirdest conversation they had ever had up to date easily. "Speaking of... remind me to thank your little boy toy for the bubble bath because this is awesome."

"I would let you but he totally ran off to Vegas," Gerard said while propping a leg up on to the tub.

"What's in Vegas?"

"He had a band, they got signed here, and then got picked up to record an album and go back home, which is Vegas," the older man shrugged.

"What's with you in musicians?" Patrick said as he dropped the crust to his pizza back into the box.

"Attracted to the life I always wanted and never had," Gerard smiled at him. He had genuinely enjoyed this weekend with Patrick but it was going to have to end. He had to go to work the next day, Patrick would have to go and get his stuff, not to mention formally quit school. "Hey, baby...?"

"Please don't," the young man grumbled. "I know what you're going to say."

"You can stay here, but we have to get your stuff." He was almost finished with his slice and was half to tempted to start eating the crust pile Patrick had left in the box. "And all the paperwork, too. Like you have to quit school so we can figure out how we're going to pay back everything. Then I got to get you on the lease to the apartment. And I know your friends are going to hate seeing me, but we have to get your stuff out of that dorm."

"They'll be pissed at first but they'll get over it eventually," Patrick groaned as he played with what was left of the bubbles. "Joe might actually punch you."

"And I deserve it," the older man admitted, knowing damn well if one of Patrick's friends beat the shit out of him, he deserved every hit he'd get. "I don't know how I've managed to get a second chance here but I can't fuck it up. I've destroyed a lot of good things that have happened to me in my life and I can't let this be another one. Again."

"I know." Patrick looked over and the two smiled back at one another. "I'm so thankful for this second chance, you have no idea. But I don't know if I can go back and face reality yet."

"You have to get out and do these things, eventually - " Gerard threw his hands up in defeat " - You can absolutely come back - I want you to come back - but there are things we need to do before you can stay here."

"I know," was all Patrick could reply with as he laid his head back into the wall.

“You can call me, text me, email me, whatever you need to while apart,” the older man continued. “But you need to leave school. You need to leave the dorms. We need to get these finished so we know what we’re up against.”

“You know... I want you to call me for your sake,” the teen confessed. “I know what you’re up against but I don’t know if you know what you’re up against.”

“Yeah...” There was still a lot of shit going on that Gerard hadn’t worked out yet. He still hadn’t figured out rehab, or if he’d just cold turkey it on his own with Patrick there to help, or whatever the case. “So I can call you when I need you?”

“Absolutely...” Patrick said as he took his boyfriend’s hand in his own. “I’m gonna worry. The whole time. I don’t know if I should leave if you’re not ready.”

“No!” Gerard argued, not realizing how loud he was. “I... I want you to go take care of things. I can find ways to distract myself while you’re gone. I need to get food because it’s just not me in this place anymore and I need clean this place up well enough for you to have space here. This is going to be your home too.”

”Home,” the teenager repeated it, enjoying how it sounded so well. “This is going to be my home.”

“Yeah,” the older man said with a grin and used that hand he was holding to pull Patrick up and out of the bathtub. “Want to break it in? Have a housewarming party for two?”

“Now it’s a housewarming? What was this morning?” The teenager giggled as his boyfriend, still fully dressed, had him standing in the middle of the bathroom with only Gerard’s limbs to cover his body with.

The older man pulled the arm out from behind Patrick’s back to cradle the teen’s face and seductively whisper, “A warmup.” Given Patrick was nowhere near as light as his last “play partner,” but Gerard wasn’t letting that stop him from taking the teen up in his arms and over to the bed. He did, however, end up dropping Patrick onto the bed with a plop before draping his body over the teenager.

“What do you want to do now?” Patrick questioned, eyes huge and begging along with the rest of his body.

“I want to use up what’s left of this lube,” Gerard hummed as he found the said bottle and brought it back within view. “In that tight little ass of yours.”

“Keep saying that but you’re the one loosening it up,” the teen joked back.

“Speaking of,” the older man added before he grabbed Patrick’s hips and jerked the teen towards the corner of the bed. With Patrick’s hips angled high enough, Gerard was able to finger the teen with slicked up digits very quickly. Patrick was still loose enough from earlier that morning to jump from one to two after a short while of prodding around, but the older man wanted to go faster than that. “I need to grab a condom.”

“You just started...” Patrick whined. He had sat up on his elbows to watch Gerard finger-fuck him but when the older man had to go to the nightstand for a condom, Patrick dropped back into the bed. He got to watch Gerard grab what they needed and rush back, upside down before he rolled over onto his stomach. “Why are we still using them?”

“Because...” Gerard rolled his answer around in his brain. “We were with different people for a while. I’d like to check before we did anything risky.”

“Were you wrapped when you fucked your boy toy?” the teen sassed back.

“Yes,” Gerard answered while blinking in confusion.

“Did you fuck anyone else?”

“No.”

“Well I was covered and only with Justin so we’re both clean,” Patrick answered so matter-a-factly.

“It doesn’t work like that,” the older man groaned while he put the condom on, not removing his shirt or his pants but pulling everything out of the way enough for it to be worked with. “I’d rather get tested, baby. Just to know.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Patrick sighed and rolled it into their ongoing list of things they needed to do that was starting to seem never-ending. He stayed in his position, legs separated by the corner of the mattress, stomach flat against the covers. “But for now...?”

“For now, I’m gonna fuck you wrapped until you come undone.” Gerard used one of his feet to separate Patrick's legs, then lined himself up and started to push the head of his cock past the tight ring of his boyfriend's asshole.

Before he could catch his bottom lip to keep a moan from escaping, Patrick let out a throaty, "Oh god!"

“Good?” Gerard asked as he kept pushing forward.

“More...” the teen groaned into the bed beneath him.

“I’m working on it,” he replied.

“No,” Patrick whined. “More lube... make it go easier.”

“Oh shit,” the older man exclaimed. He quickly grabbed the bottle and carefully pulled out with only the tip of his dick still inside his boyfriend. Gerard tried to slather enough of the strawberry lube onto himself and then started to move back in.

If the noises Patrick was making gave him an idea of how good of a job he was doing, then Gerard was a pro. He had the teenager moaning and groaning and begging for more. And he was happy to oblige. If only he could keep up with Patrick.

The teen was rubbing his hips into the sheets, hard. It would easily replace his hand if he worked the fabric well enough against his groin, but he was definitely going quickly if he didn’t stop. “Baby...?”

“Yeah, sugar?” Gerard asked back between his thrusts. They had been fooling around all of that morning and for most of the night before; he wasn’t going to last long either.

“I know we just started...” Patrick groaned. He also just started talking but he couldn’t finish those words either.

“I know baby,” the older man agreed. Maybe they shouldn’t have been doing this for as long as they had been they’d gotten back together. They’d have plenty of time to make up for the time they lost. Gerard stopped moving just to savor the moment a little longer, but Patrick started bucking back against him, grinding against the bed to get some friction going, but all the while driving Gerard up the wall. He had to confess, “I’m not going to last long...”

At that point, Patrick was doing all of the work, both on himself and Gerard. With the older man completely still, Patrick had to move his hips back and forth to get some sort of feeling going. But with him in complete control, he was able to get a little rotation going, which got his cock to ride up against the sheets at a harsher pace. Gerard must have sensed the teen’s climax happening quickly as he leaned forward, took Patrick’s hand within his own and then used the other to pull the teen up so the two of them were both vertical for a moment.

It didn’t take long for Patrick to cum with his cock grinding on the corner of the mattress, and Gerard was coming shortly after he was when the teenager’s insides were clamping down around Gerard’s one member. The older man did his best to keep them up, tried even harder to bury his face in Patrick’s neck without his teeth biting down into flesh, but he managed to do both, amazingly. Even though he had already emptied his balls into the condom between him, Gerard knew to hold Patrick up in place. Might have been the difference in their body types, but Patrick had longer orgasms; sometimes even ones where he couldn’t control his body, so Gerard was always there to bring his boyfriend back down to earth.

About the time the smaller of the two had hunched over, Gerard told him, “I’m gonna roll you over on to the bed, okay?”

Patrick nodded, still slack-jawed with a shuddering breath. The older man carefully pulled his dick out, making sure that the condom stayed in place the all the while, and then gently moved the teen to lay more comfortably on the bed.

“You good?” Gerard asked when he could make out that the teenager’s breathing was starting to calm down.

“You didn’t bite me this time,” Patrick joked in between breaths.

“Did you want me to?” he laughed back.

“It wasn’t bad!”

“Sure!”

Patrick fought to sit up well enough so he could kiss his boyfriend tenderly. He missed those kisses, those lips, those hands, that face. God he just missed Gerard so much. It was almost a dream to have him back.

The older man accepted the kisses openly, but he knew it couldn’t last forever. “As much as I’d love to spend all day in bed with you, it’s Sunday.”

“I know,” Patrick groaned against his lover’s lips.

“The faster you go back, the faster we can get you moved in here,” Gerard reminded him. “I have to work tomorrow.”

“I know,” the teenager repeated.

“Would you hate me if I helped you get everything in and then let you unpack everything?” Gerard asked as he pulled away.

“As long as you let me put my stuff wherever I want,” Patrick beamed.

“Just don’t throw out any of my stuff, okay?” The older man begged.

With that starting their day off on the right foot, the two of them got to work getting themselves cleaned up, as well as getting Patrick ready to leave. This meant Gerard cleaned up the bathroom while Patrick put some clothes on, but this time it included his old Bowie shirt.

“Can’t believe you kept my shirt,” Patrick mentioned as he put it on over his binder.

“It’s gonna sound weird,” the older man admitted. “But it still smelled like you.”

Patrick tested it by lifting it up by the hem, bringing it to his nose and crouching over to meet his hands halfway. It didn’t smell too much like anything, but then again, he was used to his own smells too much he might not have been able to smell it apart from anything else that was his. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You’re so cute,” Gerard giggled as he finished getting dressed and found his car keys. “Ready?”

“Ready to start this journey,” the teenager said proudly as he followed Gerard out the door with a bag of clothes in hand.

He didn’t want to leave but there was still so much to do.

The drive to the train station was short; much too short for Patrick to savor every moment he had with his boyfriend. At the same time, the train was going to be a short ride back to the college, so the ride back was going to be super short as well. Then he’d be able to spend a long night catching up on some lost time.

If that was going to be their plan.

“Call me, text me, whatever you want to when you’re done packing up,” Gerard told the teen. “I’ll come get you.”

“What?” Patrick was caught off guard. “You want to pick me up?”

“Yeah.”

“But the guys...”

“I have to face them eventually,” the older man insisted. “Might as well do it today. I feel like I owe it to them to at least do it to their faces and not over the phone.”

“You’re too much,” Patrick sighed and let himself fall into Gerard’s embrace. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Just promise me one thing you’ll bring back with you,” Gerard pleaded and the dead look in his eyes made it seem all too serious.

“What? Anything,” Patrick responded quickly, eager to please.

“A strap on,” the older man said bluntly. “Please.”

“Seriously?!” Patrick broke out into laughter. “Oh god! I thought it was gonna be something serious.”

“Well I seriously want you to fuck me, so,” the older man said as he shrugged. Time was running out before the next train so he hugged Patrick as tight as he could for one last time before the teenager needed to go back. Right as they broke apart, Gerard passed over two twenties, rolled tightly together. “For the taxi rides. When you get there.”

“What? No!” The teen was shocked when he realized how much money was being passed over to him, let alone that it was money and not a cigarette or something of similar size. “I can’t -!”

“You can and you will,” Gerard told him before pushing Patrick’s chin up and placing a kiss on the teenager’s forehead, just below the brim of the hat so he wouldn’t get stabbed with it. “You’re about to miss your train. Just call me when you need me, okay?”

Patrick’s breath shook. He knew Gerard would be back, but he still didn’t want to leave. But he still had so much left to do that he couldn’t do in Hoboken. So, he was going agree right there; the faster he left, the faster he could come back. “Okay.”

~~~~~

He never had to do a walk of shame before, and even though this wasn't quite the same, he was still feeling like he was coming back with his tail between his legs. He didn't really want to go back, but Gerard was right, he'd have to properly get out of school and then pack up before he could really leave.

When Patrick got back to his dorm, he braced himself for Joe berating him questions but he wasn't ready for the whole crew to be in the living room. "Oh shit," he muttered.

"I'm gonna take it, it went great," Pete said, not even trying to hide his snark.

"Yeah, we're back..." Patrick mumbled. He dropped his plastic bag of clothes by the door. He had the same pants he had left in but this time he was wearing his old Bowie shirt again. “We’re together again.”

"Goddammit, Patrick!" Joe exclaimed and jumped off of the couch. "What the hell man?!"

"You knew why I left!" Patrick shot back, completely making himself ready to fight. “You don’t get to act surprised that I came back like this!”

“You think we wanted you to leave?!” The taller teen was inches away from Patrick’s face. “You think we wanted you to go back to that prick? We can’t fucking stop you anymore. You’d do it just for the attention at thi-“

Patrick didn’t even wait for another word to come out of Joe’s mouth before his fist went through it. Andy and Pete both scrambled to put the two teenagers in opposite ends of the room. It all happened so quickly, the older two were almost in shock as they stared back at one another.

“Fuck you, Joe!” Patrick hollered over Pete’s shoulder. “You don’t get a say in this!” He was physically trying to bust through Pete’s arms to get at Joe’s throat. “You don’t get to be like this!”

“Like what, mother fucker?!” Joe yelled back.

Patrick tried wiggling out of Pete’s grasps, and when it failed, he jerked his hat off and threw it in Joe’s general direction. “Don’t be a dick!”

“At least -“ Joe tried to yell back, but he was quickly cut off by a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t say something you can’t take back,” Andy snapped. Joe fought against the hold but Andy was much larger, much stronger, and had him in an uncomfortable position. “Seriously! We went over this!”

Joe was quickly brought down to the ground, but now his mouth was free, so he started barking from the floor. “Fuck you, Patrick! I’m tired of picking up your pieces just for you to go to the next heartbreaker! And this time, he already fucking did it!”

“I can make my own decisions!” Patrick started yelling back. “Stop treating me like a child!”

“Stop acting like one!” Joe shouted loudly.

“Both of you!” Pete cut between them. “What the fuck?!” Patrick kicked up a leg to break out of Pete’s hold and it wasn’t working, mostly because of Patrick’s physical inabilities and not the strength in Pete’s arms. “Stop it!”

“I will kick both of your asses,” Andy shouted in a serious tone that none of them had heard before. It was best to do what he said. “Sit down. Both of you.”

With that, Joe and Patrick were both let go and they both sat on the couch, on opposite ends to avoid being too close to one another. Pete and Andy stood in front of them, both visibly pissed. “Seriously,” Pete whined. “What is wrong with you two?”

Before either of them could answer the question, both of the older men were putting them in time out, and they started yelling about one another.

“Well, he’s been reckless!”

“He’s being a fucking idiot!”

“Why do we even bother with you?!”

“I’m not a child!”

“You’re both children! Knock it off!” Andy roared between them. Both of the teenage boys were scared shitless and weren’t going to say anything unless Andy told them they could. The older man sighed, then put his hands together like he was a teacher. “You two are friends. We’re not letting some boy come in between you.”

“I’m not...” Joe groaned into his hands as they covered his face. He very dramatically pulled at his cheeks as his hands fell onto his lap. “I’m tired of seeing you do this, man. You can’t keep putting yourself in these shitty situations and expect us to pick up the pieces.”

“I don’t need you to pick up the pieces,” Patrick shot back. “I need my friends to not be assholes!”

“That’s hard when you keep coming back here doing the same stupid shit!”

“Knock it off!” Andy cut through them again. “This is not going to be the end of us!”

“It’s not...!” Patrick started to argue. Wasn’t it... right? He didn’t want this to be the end of everything. He loved these three and they loved him. They even came to New Jersey with him. This couldn’t be the end.

“We’re working through this,” Andy started again. “Patrick is allowed to have his own fucking life and his own relationships. His own family doesn’t butt in as much as we do. We have to set up some boundaries.”

“Or set up a boundary around his fucking boyfriend,” Joe muttered under his breath.

“Stop!” Andy shot up again. “Joe, we’re not getting anywhere if you keep that shit up.”

“Oh, I can go there!” He threatened, obviously missing where Andy was trying to go. “Don’t fucking tempt me!”

“Don’t!” Patrick begged. There was no way Joe was going to talk about that incident between the two of them, was he? They promised. “Please...”

Joe stood up in front of his friends and proudly announced, “You know you can just get Patrick shit faced enough and he’ll fuck anyone. He fucked Justin after some drinks. Who knows what Gerard did to get him back?!”

“Stop it!” Patrick screamed from the couch, too terrified to get up. “You can’t...!”

“Hell, he even fucked me!” Joe snapped. “He ever tell you about that? Huh?! How 'bout you Pete? It was right after we met you too. Same fucking house, that one with the junkyard in the back; it was in those fucking cars too. That baby blue one. I can still remember it.”

Patrick had his head in his hands to hide from the embarrassment. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be doing this. He didn’t want Andy and Pete to be hearing about his past mistakes.

“He’ll fuck anything that’s nice to him,” Joe continued, but Andy had enough.

“Get out.”

“What?” The taller teen questioned.

“Get out,” Andy damn near growled. “Your room or the front door. I don’t care. Just get out.”

“I’d like to see you-“ he tried to show off but Andy stepped up and looked down at Joe hard enough to make the teen get the idea. “Fine.”

With that, Joe grabbed his phone, a jacket, and his shoes and left the dorm. Patrick was still sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Andy knelt down on the floor in front of him and Patrick groaned, “I didn’t know he was going to say that.”

“Did you guys really...?” Pete tried to ask but he wasn’t sure how to ask it.

“No, we just...” he didn’t want to remember it, but at least he did. Joe was too drunk to remember any of it right after it had happened, but Patrick had tried to block it out after all this time. “It was a mistake.”

“But you guys,” Pete muttered. He must have been lost in his own thoughts long enough for anyone did anything.

“We got drunk,” Patrick started to explain. “And he let me sleep it off in one of those cars. It wasn’t sex... but I didn’t tell him to stop. I actually...”

Andy interrupted with a hand on the teenager's knee. “You don’t have to tell us anything. We’re not going to ditch you because of your past mistakes.”

“What about my current ones?” He redirected the conversation back to his boyfriend.

Pete picked up the teenager’s discarded hat and passed it over to him when he sat down on the couch next to him. “We’ll get over it. You learned to love him again, we can learn too. Probably not _love_ love, but you know what I mean.”

“Thanks,” Patrick said with a small smile starting up on his face.

“What do you need to do?” Andy asked, bringing them back to the beginning.

“I need to pack,” the teenager started to go down his long mental checklist. “I also need to drop out formally. Change my address at financial aid so they can bill me at the apartment. Then I’d like to leave later tonight.”

“We can help,” Pete offered. “I know you do t have a car.”

“Gerard... Gerard’s gonna pick me up,” Patrick said with a wince. It had to happen honestly, but he was afraid to have his boyfriend and his friends in the same room. Especially after Joe’s outburst. “He wanted to talk to you guys. Explain his half of the story.”

“Okay,” Andy agreed to it. “He deserves a chance to be heard. We won’t do anything.”

“I don’t think we’re the ones he’s worried about,” Pete mentioned.

“Yeah...” Andy trailed off as he was starting to get deep in his own thoughts. “Let me worry about that. You go take Patrick around campus.”

~~~~~

Patrick had to turn in his student ID card and sign a large packet of paperwork. Pete sat next to him the whole time as a great security blanket, making the whole process easier, but it was still a long, time consuming, and mind-numbing process.

By the time he was done with financial aid, his friend had to offer, “Do we need to get you some food?”

“Probably,” Patrick realized he was hungry. He didn’t eat much that morning and hadn’t had anything since. There wasn’t a whole lot of options in the building though. “Vending machines?”

“Sure,” Pete agreed and lead the way. “They’re right by the dorm offices, too.”

Patrick mindlessly followed behind his friend as they walked down the hall, over to the machines, and then eventually into the chairs. He slumped into the uncomfortable wooden square shape and opened up his bag of Bugles to eat them one by one before Pete had even finished making his snack selection. When the young man had finally come over and sat next to Patrick, the teenager had to get something off of his chest. “Am I making a mistake?”

“What do you mean?” Pete asked while opening up his bag of Cheez-It’s. Had it been Cheese Nips, Patrick would have gotten a bag too.

“Quitting school,” the teen started. “Going to live with him. Starting over. Again.”

“What’s your gut telling you?”

“It’s gonna suck,” Patrick admitted. He had a long road ahead of him. No school but student debt. His transition meds still needed to be paid for. A boyfriend who needed rehab. “But it’s where I need to be.”

“Stick with that.” Pete popped a cracker into his mouth and talked around it. “We’ll be there, by your side; you know that right?”

“Yeah,” the teen agreed with a smile.

“Besides, we got this whole Fall Out Boy thing happening,” his friend reminded him.

Oh shit. Patrick almost forgot. He really did agree to be in a band with Pete, Andy, and Joe. He didn’t know how serious the other two were about it, but Pete was hellbent on it and Patrick had just burned a few bridges to get to where he was at; so why not quit school and join a band?

“Miss Stumph?” The door to the office was opened long enough for an office woman to look for their next appointment. Two boys sitting outside the door were probably not what she was looking for.

“That’s...” Patrick thought about arguing, but it really wasn’t worth it. “Here.”

He stood up and walked into the room with his food in his pockets and Pete trailing behind him. The office was small, just a desk with a computer and two chairs in front of the college employee. She had already taken her seat and mumbled something about never having appointments on Sundays and then suddenly having two that day before Patrick had even sat down. She looked up and was obviously confused since again, there were two boys in her office and neither of them looked like a Marsha. “I’m sorry, are you...?”

“Marsha Stumph,” he admitted while pulling his wallet out and showing his driver’s license. “I’m transitioning.”

“Oh...” the college employee did a double take when she was looking through the files and back at the teenager in front of her. “Okay. Why were you in the men’s dormitory?”

“Does this look like a girl?” Pete interrupted and gestures with both arms over to his friend.

The college worker did a double take, again, between the card, the papers, the files on the computer, and back at Patrick. “Good point,” she agreed. “So if you’re leaving the college campus for good, you will need to forfeit your dormitory keys after an inspection has been done to make sure you have left the room in excellent condition. If you are leaving and your dorm mate is not, you can leave the keys with him.”

“Good,” Patrick said with a nod. “I actually planned on leaving later tonight. When will someone be by?”

“Most likely Saturday.”

“Quick question?” Pete interrupted again. “Where can we get boxes to help us pack?”

“Us?” Patrick looked over at his friend. “What’s this _us_?”

“I’m leaving too,” his friend announced. “I was your next appointment by the way. Peter Wentz III.”

“You’re not-?!” Patrick couldn’t believe it. He had nothing to gain from staying in school but Pete still had things he could do. Hell, the young man loved politics and his degree in Political Science could do him so much for a possible good future.

“Fall Out Boy, ‘Trick,” Pete said with a grin. “I’m going all in.”

~~~~~

The bookstore had some boxes they could use. Everything else was bagged. Crudely bagged in large black trash bags like it was trash from a concert. Patrick’s dorm was empty when he got back. No Andy, but especially, no Joe. That gave him some time to get things together before Gerard was coming over.

He still had a lot to do.

He had a closet full of clothes that needed to be folded up and put into bags. He had some college supplies like his laptop and some notebooks that he couldn’t return back to the bookstore. There was also his record collection and the mini record player. Plus the two guitars he wasn’t going to leave without.

The closet seemed like the biggest a fish to tackle so he started there first. Hopefully, the hat collection wasn’t going to get too squished if they went on the top of the shirt piles when bagged, but if the shirts were folded evenly, that might not have been a problem.

The door opened and let some light into the room. It caught Patrick’s attention long enough to pull himself away from packing his clothes away. “What do _you_ want?”

“I’m here to apologize,” Joe told him while still in the doorway.

“Whatever,” the shorter teen groaned.

“I went too far,” his friend admitted. “We both promised we’d never bring that up ever again and I told the guys. I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t...” Patrick groaned into a loose shirt. “You’re that pissed off that I’m going back to Gerard that you told the guys?”

“I was pissed that you were going back to a guy who left you broken,” Joe tried to explain. “I don’t know what I’d do if he broke your heart again.”

“He’ll be here in a few hours,” the shorter teen said while he concentrated on folding shirts. “Maybe ask him yourself.”

“Has he changed?” Joe asked.

“Is Andy and Pete here?” Patrick asked his own question back.

“Yeah... why?”

“So I only have to tell this story once,” the teen confessed and put the shirt he was folding down to go into the living room. Sure enough, there was Andy and Pete sitting on the couch, doing god knows what. “Since no one asked me how last night went, I’m going to come out and tell you.”

“Oh!” Andy exclaimed as he realized what was about to happen. “Go ahead.”

Patrick shot Joe a side eye glare until the other teen caught the hint and sat down on the only free spot on the couch. Storytime was starting.

“We all know I fucked up over these last few months, I’ll admit it,” the teenager started to tell. “But things were a lot worse for him. I didn’t know how bad it was until I got there. There was alcohol, drugs, sex with almost completely anonymous people. He had it bad.”

“Did he explain why he dumped you?” Joe asked, bringing it all back to why he was so personally pissed off about the situation.

“The whole Cartoon Network thing was a gamble, and he didn’t want us to get too far along together and have it all fall apart if he lost the job,” Patrick tried explaining. “But he didn’t really ask me for what I wanted to do, and that’s gonna change.”

“Go back,” Pete cut his way into the conversation. “Start from the beginning of last night. So you got to the thing and...?”

“I get there,” Patrick started to tell the story until he realized he should leave out some parts. His friends didn’t need to know that he left in an anxiety fueled panic and met a stranger who led him back there. He also probably shouldn’t bring up the sex. “And he wants to talk. Just talk. No promises of anything, just to talk over coffee. We both get out what we needed to say; how I’m mad that he just left me without giving me a chance and how he’s decided to take it all out in himself in some narcotic self-harming thing. But then one thing leads to another -“

“And you fucked?” Pete asked bluntly but only before Andy could pop him in the shoulder. “Ow! Fuck, man!”

“I was gonna leave that part out but, yeah,” the teen admitted. “But before that, he told me he wanted to clean up. He knew he had gotten worse and had let it all control his life, but he didn’t know to clean up from all of the drugs and shit. So, after the show, we went to his apartment and he let me get rid of everything.”

“Everything, like...?” Andy tried to ask. Sure he was the straight edge member of the group but it didn’t mean he didn’t know what they were talking about.

“He had a butt ton of alcohol in his kitchen and then a crap ton of pills in his bathroom,” Patrick answered. “There was some powder stuff but I don’t know what it was. He let me get rid of it all. He’s wanted to clean up but he was afraid of not having someone to help him through it and he was too scared to tell his family about it. I know he fucked up, but...”

“It’s okay man,” Pete added. “We get it.”

“Kind of,” Joe stared dryly. “How do you know he’s not going to do it again?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that desperate to make things alright,” Patrick admitted. “He’s gonna have to work, and work hard to keep the relationship going, but he’s already making sacrifices and plans to make this work.”

“And he’s gonna be here?” the other teen added again.

“Told him is text him when I’m done packing up.” Patrick went and sat down on the floor in front of the couch. “He wanted to apologize to you guys. Try to make amends. Move forward.”

“Guess we got get packing, huh?” Joe asked with a small smile forming on his lips. Then he started to announce, “And, we are not going to discuss what I brought up this morning. It was a mistake and I don’t want to bring it back up, ever again. Got it?”

The older two both audibly agreed. That warmed Patrick’s heart. He knew they’d come around eventually. “Thanks.”

“Can’t keep putting salt in the wound,” Joe added. “We gotta move on.”

“That we do,” Andy said as he got up from the couch and moved to the kitchen. It took Patrick a moment to realize that the heavily tattooed man was taking their kitchen utensils out to go with him when he left. The teenager did take the open seat on the couch to sit close to his two friends now that it was vacant.

“So... are we even... a band anymore?” Pete asked in bits and pieces. It was his idea. The band was his brainchild and he had been nurturing the idea since it’s creation. So, of course, he’d ask. It’s not like he didn’t quit school too.

“If you guys’ll have me,” Patrick muttered. “But you got to take me. All of me. That means him too.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Joe added and patted Patrick’s back with an open palm.

“Really?” Patrick questioned.

“Yeah,” Joe sighed, almost like he regretted it. “We’ll learn to like him, just like we did last time. It’ll be harder, but... we’ll learn to like him.”

“Great!” Pete shouted and shot up. “‘Cuz I might have got us a gig!”

“What the fuck?!” Patrick was shocked. “How did you get us a gig when we don’t even have music?”

“Details,” the older man admitted. “We’ll work that out later.”

“Fake it til you make it,” Andy added from his spot in the kitchen.

“Your relationship is gonna be a lot like this band, probably the other way around,” Joe old the other teenager. “Gotta trust your gut, put the work in, pray for the best, and plan for the worst.”

“This is the best bandmates I could hope for,” Patrick smirked. “I’m not gonna plan for something that’s never gonna happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally wrote a good chunk of this July 2017, but I just got my hands on Mania and it's changed a lot of how I want this portrayed. I also need a better chapter summary if someone wants to help since I'm just doing the bare minimum at the moment.
> 
> \---   
> 6 months after this was posted, I really want to change the uncircumcised dick conversation because it is so annoying and body shaming, but at the same time I feel like teenage Patrick Stump would be a typical teenage boy like every other teenage boy in America in 2003. I mean, Gerard was still saying that things were gay (in a derogatory sense) in 2006, so I feel like they wouldn't be up to the same standards we have today (in 2018) fifteen years ago. That conversation was a rip off of a conversation I had another trans guy friend and I thought that it would be humorous to copy it, but now I've changed my mindset on a lot of things being that I've dated more than one or two cis guys.   
> It really isn't that big of a deal, Patrick, get over it.


	2. Confess my love, I'd know where to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Church" by Fall Out Boy.

There was a series of loud knocks on his front door that took him surprise. Patrick wasn’t supposed to be back, plus whoever it was sounded stronger than his boyfriend, (no offense to Patrick). Gerard rushed through the apartment as quickly as he could to meet his visitor but when the door was opened, he was greeted with a bouquet of flowers first before a person.

“What the hell?” He shocked at the idea of getting flowers delivered to his apartment until he saw an old friend behind them. “Whoa, what are you doing here?”

He moved to the side to let her come in, but Lindsey passed over her flowers before making herself at home. “A bit of a peace offering since I missed your artistic debut as well as a gift for the lovely gentleman I met the other night.”

“Oh,” Gerard exclaimed while single-handedly closing the door behind her. “He’s not here.”

“What do you mean he’s not here? Did you scare him off?! All that talk about wanting each other from the both of you just make up for a one night stand?!” She didn’t wait for an answer before she snatched her gift back. “What’s wrong with you two?”

“He’s dropping out of school so he can come live with me,” Gerard calmly explained, still slightly in shock. “Along with some medical crap. I’m picking him up later.”

“Oh,” she realized her mistake. “I’ll go find a vase then.”

“A vase? You think I’m classy like that?” He sassed back as he followed her into the kitchen. “Girl you do not know me that well.”

“I just can’t believe,” she said it again before passing the flowers back to him. “Out of all the people in New York City that night, almost eight million people, and I meet Patrick.”

“I know,” he sighed at the thought. “Small town.”

She went through his cupboards until she found a giant cup from the movie theaters, clearly for Star Wars, and filled it with water from the sink. “This’ll do for now until we can get you a real vase.”

“Still not that kind of guy,” he reminded her.

Lindsey took the flowers back from him and put them in their nerdy makeshift vase before leaning on the counter to admire her work; both in the flowers and the man in front of her. “So Way, what’s the plan?”

“What plan?”

“You got him back,” she said, almost like she was amazed. “What’s the next step?”

“I uh...” He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“What’s he doing right now?”

“He’s uh...” Gerard rambled on for a bit, talking about this and that when it came to his and Patrick’s to do list. Eventually, it got so involved that Lindsey grabbed him a cheap white board from her bag and they started making their own list.

It started with the school.

Even if Patrick was on a scholarship for the first semester, there were still loans out in his name for all of the other expenses like the dorm, food allowance and books. Gerard was cringing at the idea of how much that had to be. The two of them were going to have to get it all consolidated just to see how much they needed to pay back.

Then there was moving.

Not only did they have to pack up all of Patrick’s stuff, but then they had to move it all to Gerard’s place, unload it, and figure out to turn enough stuff for a dorm and an apartment into a home. Then they had to put Patrick’s name on the lease.

Then lastly, there were the medical expenses.

He didn’t out his boyfriend but he made a note about how Patrick had medical issues that needed to be taken care of. Lindsey automatically assumed it was diabetes and Gerard just rolled with it without actually admitting anything. Something about needles automatically makes the disease in question diabetes.

He stared at the board and the long list of crap they had going on. It seemed never-ending. As soon as he’d knock a few things off a few more could be added instantly. It was a lot to chew on and even more to digest.

Thank god he had good friends to keep him in the right mindset. Lindsey moved into his personal bubble. “So what’s it like to have him back?”

He sighed with a smiled on his face. “It’s like a dream and I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and he won’t be there. But when I did this morning, he had fallen asleep with his head on my chest and I couldn’t move.”

“A good dream?”

“Hell yeah.”

“All of this,” she said while motioning towards the board still in his hands. “Is going to seem like nothing when you have him next to you. You’ll see.”

“Everything’s so different now,” he stated.

“Like how?”

“There were so many voices in my head telling me to let him go before we... before I dumped him,” Gerard admitted. “And then there were voices telling me to get him back.”

“And now?”

“No voices. Nothing. Not even a choir of angels praising the miracle of us being back together,” he explained. “It’s so weird.”

“Find some comfort in the silence,” Lindsey told him. “It’s a good thing when the voices inside of your head can’t find something to complain about.”

“That’s a good way to put it.”

“What are you going to do when you bring him back?” she asked, prying into his business.

“I’m gonna take his stuff from my car into my apartment and I’m going to spend my first real night with him as a couple,” he explained, proudly.

“I wanna be you when I grow up,” she joked.

“No you don’t,” he chuckled until she poked him with her knees.

“Don’t ruin it this time,” Lindsey ordered him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He spent hours bullshitting with Lindsey over just about anything. They talked about her love life, or lack there of, since she had recently broken it off with Jenn. They talked about the stupid crap Jimmy was getting himself in. They talked about how Lindsey got a cat to keep herself company while she was spending long hours on oil paintings and blog entries. They lost track of time while enjoying each other’s company.

His phone buzzed and he looked at it while trying to not be rude to his guest. “Patrick’s almost ready for me to pick him up.”

“Aww,” Lindsey hummed. “Need me to leave?”

“Preferably,” Gerard told her as he put his phone back in his pocket. “I’d say you could come with me but his friends might kick my ass and I don’t want you to see that. Need you to think I’m tough.”

“You sure? You could use me for backup,” she offered. He legitimately gave it some thought and then grabbed his phone again. He had started up a message about her tagging along before she interrupted, “I’m kidding.”

“Yeah,” Gerard repeated, even if he secretly wanted the backup, but deleted his draft message regardless. “I got you.”

“You can see me sometime later, like this weekend, I really want to see the two of you,” she said confidently. “But now you need some time with Patrick.”

“I’m still worried about his friends and junk,” the older man grumbled. “This is gonna be hard.”

“Seriously,” Lindsey told him as she got up and grabbed her bag, put on her jacket and located her shoes. “You got the boy back. The hard part is over.”

“Actually, I think the hard part just started,” he admitted.

~~~~~

He vaguely remembered how to get back to the college. He took the train and a taxi the last time he went there so now it was just a shot in the dark. Once he got in the area, though, it was all muscle memory. He passed his old work and the High Watt and knew how to get to over to the dorms. He just needed to see it to remember.

Gerard pulled up into a parking spot and he remembered back to when he picked had Patrick up from the same spot to go out on the double date with Ray and Christa. God how time flies. Now, he was there to take the teenager away from that place forever. When he had pulled in, Gerard and saw Andy and Joe with boxes on the curb and could only assume that they were there to help move Patrick out. He put the car in park and unlocked the whole car to make packing easier and left it to go up to his boyfriend’s best friends.

It was made or break time.

He walked up to the two of them with a prayer under his breath. “Hey.”

They both looked up and saw him and greeted him on their own. “Hey.”

“So uh... I just wanted to say... uh,” Gerard stuttered. He couldn’t find the words. He rehearsed it in the car but standing in front of Joe changed everything.

Joe got up from the box he had been leaning on stepped up to stand in front of Gerard. Then, he did something Gerard wasn’t expecting; Joe held a hand out to shake his formally. “Patrick told us how you’ve been doing. He also told us how you’ve changed.”

Gerard looked down at the other teen’s hand and shook it, reluctantly, if only because he was scared. “Are you going to kick my ass? I deserve it.”

“I think you’ve done enough to yourself to make up for anything I’d want to do,” Joe said as he broke their shake. If that wasn’t terrifying, Joe’s glare certainly sent the point.

“So...” he trailed off. Gerard had built it up in his head for so long, the fact that nothing was happening was terrifying. Like the other shoe was going to fall but he couldn’t figure out when.

“You’re good,” Andy added. “We’re gonna be hard on you, though. We need to make sure you’re going to take care of him.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gerard told the two of them. “I need someone to keep me in check.”

“Great,” Andy joked. “Want to help us kick him out of the dorm?”

“Sure,” the older man smirked back.

There were three boxes placed in his backseat and he honestly couldn’t carry any of them to his car but he could get them safely in the back seat with plenty of room on the floor boards. At that point the three men decided to go back upstairs to get more but Gerard decided to fall behind the other two out of respect and fear. Even the elevator ride up was quiet. But once he was at the fifth floor, his rib cage had turned into a butterfly house for his heart. He knew Patrick was there and he was floating on air.

The door was ajar, so he could look inside and he saw his boyfriend holding a black trash bag while talking to Pete. The two made eye contact and Patrick dropped the bag and disrupted his conversation to go running out to door and into Gerard’s arms. “Hey!”

“Hey!” Gerard said back while hugging the teenager tightly in his arms. “Like I didn’t see you this morning.”

“I know, but you’re here!”

When the two of them hugged one another, Gerard noticed a very _big_ difference from the last time they had been in each other’s arms. He wasn’t commenting on it however, but he stood there with eyes widening from surprise before whispering into Patrick’s ear. “Are you strapped right now?”

“It’s calling packing,” the teen informed him in a hushed tone. “And yes, I’m packing hard. It’s my plan to get you home and on your knees as soon as possible.”

Gerard coughed loudly in surprise to cover up his shock and the immediate boner he had gotten. Sure he and Patrick both switched back and forth, and he absolutely loved it when the teenager was dominating, but it was a whole different game when it was blunt and in public. “Okay... we’re gonna go soon then.”

“Not too soon. I didn’t think you’d get here before we were done,” Patrick said as he led the older man back to the dorm room. Gerard took a moment at the doorway to give the room a once over. They had made so many memories there and now they were never going to see it again.

“Hey,” the older man greeted Pete once the two got closer to the dorm. What he wasn’t expecting was for Pete to lunge at him, causing him to fall back, until Pete pulled the older man into a weird side hug by the pull of a single arm. “Shit!”

“You’re good man!” Pete told him after making Gerard nearly shit his pants. “Wouldn’t be alright if we didn’t scare you a little bit.”

“It would!” Patrick interrupted. “I’d like my boyfriend in one piece!”

The teenager pulled on Gerard’s arm, all the while grumbling underneath his breath about his friends being assholes, and brought the man further inside the dorm, eventually to his bedroom. Everything was being boxed up. Patrick’s clothes had been folded nicely and could fit into one box easily. His record player was designed to be moved, but it was placed along with the records into another box with some of Patrick’s hats on top. The box of toys and lube just had its top put on and it blended in with the rest of them.

“Patrick, I know we want to get out of here soon, but,” Gerard rubbed a hand up on his boyfriend’s back. “Take a second to look around.”

“What do you mean?” The teenager looked up at him, puzzled as to why he had to stop what he was doing.

“Come here,” the older man beckoned. Patrick quickly left his post from packing up school supplies that could be salvaged to walking into his boyfriend’s arms. Gerard tenderly turned Patrick around to look at the room while rocking the teen back and forth. “Take a second to take in the room.”

“Okay,” Patrick told him but still sounded confused.

“That,” Gerard positioned them to face the bed. “Was the first place we had sex.” Patrick giggled and Gerard groaned at the thought. “Think about it, not like a dirty thought, but think about it. Our relationship went to a whole new level in this room. We wouldn’t be here if we at least didn’t have that moment.”

“Yeah,” the teenager sighed.

“And out there,” the older man turned them around towards the living room. The door was still closed but they knew what was out there. “Was the couch we made out on during one of our first dates.”

“I get to take my sheets off the bed with me but the couch is staying here,” Patrick added. “Meaning it’s been used for a lot of first dates.”

“Gah,” Gerard groaned. “That’s too many teenagers fucking on that couch!”

“Moment ruined,” Patrick teased.

“I refuse, that ain’t happening,” the older man argued and pulled Patrick into the living room. There were boxes upon boxes going on that left the place barely more than a skeleton to the memories they had made. He pointed out the kitchen, which had been properly compiled into a single plastic bag of food and a cardboard box of every non-food item, and then point out what he done there once before. “Remember that date where I brought pizza and we watched Pulp Fiction?”

“Yeah, you already mentioned it,” the teenager said with a smirk.

“And then how we went out and bought you food and cereal boxes and junk?” Gerard added to his previous statement.

“And how you held my Cheese-Nips hostage when I wouldn’t take my binder off?” Patrick jested.

“But think of what we did...” Gerard put his hands on Patrick’s cheek softly. He had to take it all in. The teen’s sweet eyes. The lengthening auburn hair. The way his sideburns framed his smile and emphasized it even more. “We can do that again. We’ll do it again and again from apartment to apartment. From apartment to our first house. To a house to a home. I can promise you that.”

Patrick couldn’t form a response in words. God, he loved that man. Gerard made his heart soar and now it was out of the atmosphere.

“I’d run away with you, anywhere, whenever we have our stuff together,” the older man continued. “So whenever we can start running...”

“Anytime you want,” was all the teen could mutter.

“How ‘bout now?” Gerard offered.

“We gotta finish packing,” Patrick reminded him. “I still gotta leave the dorm.”

That’s when Gerard took a look around the rest of the dorm, and realized there more than enough boxes and things being packed for one student. Like an excessive amount. The whole place was being boxed up, not just Patrick’s stuff. The older man couldn’t piece together how or why this was happening, so he found himself asking, “Are they making Joe leave too?”

“No... at least they’re not making him leave,” the teen said quietly.

“That’s good,” Gerard said as he walked on his own towards Patrick’s bedroom. They still had to pack up everything, right? But he could work and talk. “So... I might have made some dinner plans with Lindsey if you’re interested.”

“Sure,” Patrick agreed as he followed his boyfriend towards his old bedroom. “When we’re done here?”

“No, like next weekend,” Gerard admitted as he got to the bedroom door.

The door was blocking him from going inside like the look on Patrick’s face was keeping him from going anywhere else. Dinner plans were going to be shot down, hard, but he couldn’t figure out why.

Patrick stuck his hands in his pockets, very nervous to admit, “We’re doing a venture thing.”

“What?” Gerard was so confused. “Like Apple? You guys are going to work out of a garage or something?”

“No...” Patrick groaned. “I didn’t want spring this on you like dinner plans or anything... not that dinner with Lindsey would be bad but...”

“You can tell me,” the older man tried to pry. “I can deal with it.”

“We’re making a band.”

“You’re what?”

It didn’t make sense at first but as Patrick explained it, it was all falling into place. “We’re gonna take those songs that Pete and I were writing and I’m gonna sing, and Pete’s gonna play bass, and Joe’s gonna play guitar, and Andy’s gonna play drums. We have to get Andy a drum set, which is like all of our savings combined, but he’s really fucking good! I’ve seen him play lots of times, but his set is still in Milwaukee and my set is in Chicago. It was all really sudden and I know it doesn’t help that I’m dropping out of school and now we’re doing this! I get it’s a lot!”

Gerard closed the gap between them as quickly as possible. “You think I’m gonna leave?”

“I...” The teenager stuttered; the face Gerard was making wasn’t making him worry any less. “I hope not. Especially after everything you just said.”

“I’m gonna be at every show,” the older man said confidently. “Front and center. I’ll be your biggest fan.”

“You don’t...”

“I do. You know I do.”

The two touched foreheads while they embraced as close as they could, had Patrick’s hat not been in the way. It fell on the floor anyway, but it still ruined the moment. Gave Gerard a great opportunity to look at Patrick’s ass in the process. That also gave the rest of the guys the chance to meet up in the living room. Patrick was standing there with his hat properly on his head, waiting for his friends to have his back.

“This is gonna be hard,” the teenager confessed his worries. “Long nights. Long distance. I’m gonna be away doing god knows what. I’m gonna see more of them than I will see you. It’s gonna be a long distance relationship at the worst of times if we get it big. And I don’t -“

“When you make it big,” Gerard interrupted. “There’s no way people can hear you and not love you.”

“You don’t know that,” Patrick argued.

“But you deserve to try,” the older man added. The other guys were about ATM distance away from them, not close enough to see their PIN numbers but close enough to hear them. “You deserve a chance. You gave me a second one.”

“I don’t...” Patrick started to say.

“Take it, ‘Trick,” Joe commented from the sidelines. “It’s not like we’re getting big overnight. We’re playing a bar next weekend, not a stadium.”

“Maybe we’ll sell out Madison Square Garden one day,” Pete added. “But for now we’re gonna be the only band not from Jersey playing at the Loop.”

“The Loop?” Gerard questioned. “Frank’ll be pissed.”

“Because we’re not from Jersey?” Pete tried to make sense of it all.

“You all are gonna leave him in the dust,” Gerard scoffed. “What are you even calling yourselves?”

~~~~~

“Fall Out Boy?” Gerard repeated for what had to be the hundredth time. “Who came up with it?”

“Andy did, actually.”

The two had been bringing box after box into Gerard’s apartment for the last hour or so. The place was going to be crowded with all of their stuff at first, but eventually they’d figure it out and clean everything up and make it livable, but for now, they just needed to have it all under one roof.

The biggest thing that was scaring him the most out of all the material possessions was having both of Patrick’s guitars in his tiny apartment. The teenager had offered it to Joe, as a loaner, just until they found a bigger place. Would have worked out if Joe wasn’t planning on living with Andy, and possibly Pete. It would be good to have all of them together, especially if that was going to be the new place for their writing days. Which was going to be more often. And more thorough. And more involved.

“I was thinking we share a vehicle for awhile,” Gerard offered as he started to think through it all. “You could take me to the train station and then use the car all you want. And I promise not to be that significant other who expects you to cook and clean why I’m at work. I get it. Making music is going to be a full time job.”

“That’d be awesome,” Patrick agreed. He had a box of his records and the record player in hand with his electric guitar strapped to his back. Not very easy to carry or walk with on a normal basis, and he just did it through three flights of stairs. Fat kid win!

“I mean, it’s not that far,” the older man continued as he lead the way back up the stairs with a box of his own. “I could walk to it if the weather wasn’t that bad. There’s a shit ton of stations in North Jersey to take me to New York if we ever had to be somewhere.”

“Like Passaic?” Patrick added. He had that show the upcoming weekend. Just in case.

“Yeah,” Gerard told his boyfriend with a smirk on his lips. “But I don’t work weekends. Occasionally, if we get slammed, but even then it hasn’t happened toy team yet. I’ve seen it with the Grim Adventures group.”

“Like Billy and Mandy?” the teenager asked with peaked interest.

“You watch it?” It was adorable; the idea that his boyfriend was watching cartoons while in college.

“Kind of,” Patrick confessed. “I watched the Breakfast Monkey every week it when there was new episodes. Justin hated it. He didn’t know you voiced the character though. He just hated the voice so much!”

“I do too,” Gerard groaned a bit until it hit him. “You watched the show?”

“Yeah!”

“Even though we -“

“Let’s not go down that road again,” the teenager reminded him.

“You’re so bossy,” Gerard chuckled. They were at the end of the stairs that lead to their floor. It took a moment to balance the box well enough to open the door but when he got it opened wide, he let Patrick go first.

“Like you don’t like me bossy,” the teen teased as he walked by.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you bossy,” the older man teased back when he let the door close behind him.

“I don’t think you could handle me in charge,” Patrick told him in a low hushed tone.

Gerard whistled, “You’ve topped me but you’ve never dominated me. I’d like to see what you could do.”

Patrick looked at him, long and hard, looked down both ends of the hall and then whispered, “You wait ‘til I get these boxes in the apartment, then I’ll show you.”

“Please,” the older man replied, almost like a threat. “You should be able to do it with the boxes.”

“Didn’t you leave your car unlocked?” Patrick teased as they came over to his apartment door. “Let’s drop everything off, you go deal with that, and then you can come back and we’ll see who’s in charge.”

“Oooh,” the older man jeered. “Look at you making plans.”

“I’m serious,” the teen admitted as he got the door to the apartment open. They had left everything unlocked with plans of going in shifts so neither the car nor the apartment was left unmanned for more than three minutes at a time. “Drop the stuff off, go take care of your car, and then we can have some personal time.”

“Personal time?”

“I’m trying to say it nicely,” the teenager laughed. “I don’t know how nosy your neighbors are!”

“Oh dear lord,” Gerard grumbled. He got things put down quickly to bring the feeling back into his arms and then Patrick started taking everything into the bedroom. The older man had caught on when his teenage boyfriend had came back the second time. “You want to do it in the living room?”

“Yep,” Patrick answered. “Hit the lights on your way out too.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you’ll find out.”

That both excited and terrified him. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in Patrick’s mind that had already been planned out that far, but he was eager to find out. Gerard was already running down the stairs like a madman when he started to think about it; the sooner his car was locked up, the sooner he could have the apartment locked up for him and his boyfriend. He wanted to run back up the stairs like he had ran down, but he slightly winded and wanted to conserve what little breath he had left in him for when he was under Patrick.

Not a moment later, he was back at his apartment door, hand hovering over the handle before he could muster up the courage to go in and handle, or rather be handled by, Patrick. The door closed behind him and Gerard’s apartment had transformed into a whole new world when they were all alone with all of their work done. Patrick had been standing near the door so he could be right there when the door finally opened. He took the opportunity and pinned the taller man against the door and leaned in to his ear, “Were you serious? Do you want me to take control?”

“Yes,” Gerard said with a gasp.

“Then close your eyes,” the teenager instructed him.

When his eyes did close, he felt Patrick pull off of him and walk away. He wouldn’t dare open his eyes until he was told otherwise but it felt like his boyfriend was taking his time.

“Strip.” Gerard started to peek to see what Patrick was doing but that was quickly shot down. “No. I said strip. I didn’t give you permission to open your eyes yet.”

His breath because unsteady, his palms sweaty, and his fingers jittery. But ever so slowly did he remove his jacket, toe off his shoes and socks, and pull his pants down. Even with his shirt and boxers on he felt so bare.

“Keep going,” Patrick ordered. “And no peeking.”

There was naked, when his clothes were off but he was alone, and then there was this new naked sensation he was experiencing for the first time. It was something entirely different when he had to bare and naked in front of someone, like he was on a stage. It was so vulnerable, like back when Patrick had talked him through masturbating for show. With his boxers kicked to the floor, Gerard was completely nude.

Time for the show to start.

“Crawl over here,” Patrick ordered and it made the older man’s breath catch in his throat. “You can open your eyes if you need to, but I want you on your hands and knees as you come over to me.”

“No...” Gerard gasped out. “I can do it.” He accepted the challenge, but it was easier said than done. The older man used the door to bend down and go onto his knees. Once they hit the floor, he pushed himself forward and onto his hands.

“God, I wish you could see yourself,” the teen’s voice broke into the room. “It’s so hot.”

“I’m like half hard already,”Gerard stated, both to let Patrick know and to admit it to himself. With it shaking like a leaf, he reached his hand out to take a move towards his boyfriend and further away from the door. Despite it being the apartment he had lived in for almost a year now, this was completely uncharted territory. His hand landed on a shirt, probably his own unless Patrick was undressed too, but he still wouldn’t open his eyes. He was determined. He was going to make it all the way over there.

“Look our for the -“ Patrick tried to warn but Gerard’s shoulder abruptly came in contact with the coffee table. Given the older man cussed at the sudden intrusion to their scene - “Shit!” - the teen made the mental note to push the table out of the way next time, but more so, how Gerard’s eyes were still shut. After regaining his composure, the dark-haired man pushed on until his forehead grazed up against something covered in denim; Patrick’s knee. He sighed loudly and rested his whole body up against his boyfriend’s legs and the couch with his head laying crookedly on the edge of the couch cushion and Patrick’s knee. “Please open your eyes. I want to see you.”

They fluttered open, matching the butterflies in his gut, but once Gerard could see again, he stared up at the beauty before him. There could be statues in museums made to look like Patrick so the whole world could see what he saw, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Even clothed, the teen looked like something reminiscent of a renaissance painting cherub; soft curves and pale pinks pulling his features out of the darkness that enveloped the two of them in the room. Unfortunately, Gerard’s mouth couldn’t form any of those thoughts into words that weren’t, “You’re so pretty.”

At least Patrick took it at face value as the sweet comment that the love of his life had told him honestly. “If only you could see yourself.”

“What do you want me to do?” the older man inquired as he brought his cheek closer to Patrick’s thigh. If that wasn’t a hint for some kind of sexual activity to happen, then Gerard wasn’t trying hard enough.

“I wanna see how your lips look wrapped around my cock,” Patrick said jokingly but still in a low enough tone that it matched the mood.

That made the older of the two gulp, loudly. “You think I can...?”

“If you wanna try?”

“I can try.” It’s not like he hadn’t ever gone down on anyone, but he knew from first-hand experience from that cock being balls deep in him that it was designed to be hard. Possibly too hard to go down his throat like a regular cock. But he was going to try. Patrick pushed his hips and legs up enough for the older man to get the hint. Gerard sat up on his knees and watched as the teenager slowly undid his jeans button, undid the zipper, and then pushed the denim past his hips so that the bright red monstrosity popped up. "Oh shit... I haven't seen that one before."

"I've got a lot in my box of tricks you haven't seen yet," Patrick teased. 

Without any warning, knelt down on the floor in front of the couch and took the hard silicone member into his mouth like it was holy communion. One head bob and his eyes were half-lidded like he had been knocked out by the sheer force of teen's sexuality. He let out a moan from the back of his throat that sent vibrations up the strap on that easily went up to Patrick's actual dick. He looked up, eyes now wide with hunger, to see Patrick grit his teeth. It may have been awhile since Gerard had serviced a cock, but he still knew what he liked having done to his own erection. He also knew that he couldn't be that good that early into it. He pulled off and let the cock fall from his lips before asking, "You good?"

"Y-yeah..." the teen groaned. "I need more, though."

Gerard looked at his boyfriend's face for some form of reassurance. "Isn't that the point of foreplay?"

"There's..." Patrick started to say before he groaned so lowly, he needed to start over. "There are ridges on the underside of my strap on that are directly on my junk."

"Oh," the older man was shocked.  

"When you moaned..." the teen said with a shuddering breath. "It was like a whisper when I needed to scream. I need to know what it'll feel like when I fuck you."

"Oh god," Gerard couldn't help but moan, but he still couldn't do anything; he was still under Patrick's thumb. "But you're still in charge, what do you need me to do?"

"I... I-I need to get you opened up," the teen was slowly realizing what all he needed to do. He repositioned himself in his seat, regaining his composure, and pulled a slim bottle of lube out of the crack of the couch cushions. "I was prepared, just didn't want to use it this early."

"Well..." the older man tried to reassure his boyfriend. "You've had it on all day."

"Yeah," Patrick groaned and tilted his head back onto the edge of the couch as Gerard took the bottle from his hands.  "This was not thought out well, at all."

The older man climbed onto the couch with a leg on each side of Patrick's hips, readying himself for the next step of their dangerous game. Gerard clicked the bottle open from its pop top and held it up for Patrick to bring a hand over underneath the opening. The teenager let his fingers get covered in the ooze and then brought it down, down, and over across the crack between Gerard's ass cheeks. The older man let out an almost silent moan when he felt a finger press up against his hole and then push its way through.

"Good?" Patrick asked, eyes pleading. All the older man could initially do was nod, with his lips drawn into his teeth, so his boyfriend pushed further. One finger turned to two. Gerard's face was buried in Patrick's neck. A little more lube came in. Three fingers folded in on one another set a great pace for the two to start with. Patrick repeated himself in attempt to start their next step, "Good?"

Gerard pulled his head up so he could look at his lover, complete with a porno-worthy hair flip. "Fuck me."  


"Oh god yes," the teen moaned as he reached between the two of them to push his pants just a further past his hips. "Please!"

"Hold it up and I can do it," Gerard ordered as he grabbed hold of the couch with both hands. When he could feel the plastic cockhead pressing against his hole he started to lower himself down. "Fuck... Does it feel...?"  


"Treat it like it's really me," Patrick moaned before his boyfriend took his mouth. 

"Of course," the older man said sensually when they parted and he pulled himself up on his knees, then slammed himself back down. He redid the pace Patrick had set earlier and wasn't faltering a bit until he positioned himself well enough for his prostate to be hit. At the rate they were going already, neither of them would last even half as long as they haad in the past, but now it was really going to end quickly.

Patrick managed to push his pants down to the floor to give himself enough room to grind up against his boyfriend. It was perfect; those ridges were on his cock, Gerard was pushing them into him more and more as they hurried through their fuck session. The teen firmly grabbed the back of Gerard's thighs and raised his hips in turn with his boyfriend's thrusts. Gerard moaning like he was in heat didn't help at all.

He was going to finish.

Fast.

Whether he liked it or not.

"I'm gonna..." he muttered out.

"Me too," Gerard whined. He desperately missed being fucked and he was acting just as desperate in an attempt to get the most out of this. "Can you stroke me? I'm so close..."

Patrick didn't give it a second thought and firmly grab his boyfriend's cock and start stroking them in time with their movements and then released his other hand from Gerard's thigh to grab the older man's face and lock their eyes. "I want to see you. Please..."

"Fuck," Gerard groaned. His legs were shaking, almost giving out on him.

"Come on," the teenager begged. "Let me see you cum."

All he could focus on was Patrick. He couldn't pay attention to anything but his boyfriend's face completely struck over with lust, or the pleasure that Patrick was giving him while stroking him off or by hitting his prostate again, and again, and again.

"Please, baby," Patrick begged again. "Let me see that face when you cum."

He let out a gaspy breath at that.

"I'll let you cum all over us," the teen said with a smirk.

The line was something out of a cheap porno, but it still turned Gerard up to eleven. His body tensed up, knowing it was close, he just needed something to push him over the edge.

"Come on baby," Patrick added. "Just cum for me."

There it was. 

He came with a loud broken out gasp and spilled over Patrick's fingers, despite how the teenager didn't stop. And then he couldn't stop. Gerard couldn't stop. His whole body was shaking as Patrick kept stroking him and he continued to moan until he was practically screaming. When his voice started to go, his arms did as well, and he hid his head in the crook of Patrick's neck. 

Patrick, on the other hand, came quickly. His head leaned back onto the couch, Gerard's body moving back with him, and he bore his teeth down as his orgasm ran through him until it all subsided. It had happened a little too fast for him to enjoy it like he wanted to, but he had enjoyed the last eight hours or so with that specific strap on grinding up against his cock, so it worked out in his favor. 

His breath had steadied out first so he took the clean hand of his and used it to push Gerard's head back into view. "You okay?"

The older man's head dropped back down, finally seeing his now softening member in Patrick's hand. He may have cum already but this was an amazing sight. Gerard pulled on Patrick's hand and pulled up to his mouth and sucked his own cum off of his boyfriend's fingers.

"Holy shit," the teenager said in shock.

Gerard licked his lips, not to be seductive but because the taste was hitting him and he hasn't turned on anymore so it was a harsh gross feeling that he was controlling his next actions. "We gotta get up."

"Yeah," Patrick agreed as he held his cock in place for his boyfriend to pull off of him. He waited for Gerard to sit on the couch next to him before undoing the buckle of his strapon and letting it fall to the floor. "God that was good."

"Yeah," the older man agreed and leaned into the teen's shoulder. "Can we just...?"

He didn't know how to word it, but Patrick caught on enough. "Bed?"

"Yeah," Gerard smiled. "That'd be great."

 


	3. Baby, you were my picket fence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Miss Missing You" by Fall Out Boy

Less than forty-eight hours ago, the two of them were both hopelessly single, completely heartbroken, and barely holding their lives together. Now, there were sleeping in each other’s arms, in the apartment that would be their first home, dreading the first day of their happily ever after. They couldn’t stay there all day, no matter how Patrick would try to hold his boyfriend close, for the older man needed to provide for the two of them now that this whole musician thing was part of their future.

Short version: Gerard needed to go to work and Patrick wasn’t making it easy.

“Baby...” the older man grumbled in a hoarse voice, tainted with morning breath. “I need to go. It’s a workday. I didn’t ask for Monday off to recover from the gallery show.”

“Call in sick,” the teenager grumbled into Gerard’s armpit as he held onto his boyfriend’s waist. “Stay in with me.”

“Didn’t we agree?” Gerard tried to argue back. “I go to work today so you could free range of the apartment.”

“I know but -“

“No buts! Except for yours when I come home, or mine, depending on the mood,” the older man sassed back.

Patrick tightened the grip he had on Gerard’s waist. This was going to be hard to pull away from; not physically, just because Patrick was everything the older man wanted him to be; especially the part about being in bed with him.

“You can pick out what I wear to work if you can let me go take a shower,” Gerard offered.

“I’ll make you look like a dork.”

“So your clothes?”

That earned him a playful slap on the shoulder before Patrick finally let him go. Gerard almost literally rolled out of bed and beelined for the bathroom. The teenager sat up in bed, pushed the covers and pillows around him to cover up his chest. He was still dressed but making his chest a little less obvious had become a habit, even if his present company had seen him wearing absolutely nothing. “When do you come back from work?”

“About twelve hours from now,” his boyfriend called back from behind the door.

“Really?” Patrick was bummed. He knew his boyfriend was working man but did it matter if he was working for the majority of the day? He didn’t want to spend that much time apart from one another!

“Takes about an hour for me to go to the train to work, which is why I got to leave soon,” Gerard added before turning the shower on.

“Oh, okay...”

“It’s not that big of a deal once you get used to it,” the older man told him over the sound of the running water. “It’s just tedious.”

Patrick didn’t have much to add, so he rolled out of his side of the bed - he had a side now! - and went over to the closet to start picking clothes out for his boyfriend. There were blue jeans, which stood out to him from all of the black, so he pulled those out first. He almost wanted to add a T-shirt to it but that probably wasn’t acceptable for a working man to wear at the office.

“What do you wear to work?” the teenager called out through the bathroom door.

“That black denim jacket with whatever shirt is clean usually works!”

Internally, Patrick rolled his eyes; Gerard was so predictable. He pulled the jacket in question out, then a shirt that mostly acceptable for work, and put them out on the bed. He laid them out well enough to look like a complete outfit, minus the underwear and socks, and felt like that was his the best he was going to do with the post-grunge goth clothes of Gerard’s closet he had to work with.

“Where’s your-?” Patrick started to ask but then the water was turned off. Better to just ask in person. Within no time at all, Gerard popped out of the bathroom with his hair half dried and half-assed combed out of his face and a towel tied around his waist. Patrick took half a second to admire what he saw and then asked again, “Where’s your underwear?”

“You mean besides the one you’re wearing?” Last night had knocked them both out on their asses. Even though the teen had to help the older man get into the room the night before, Gerard was the one who found clothes. With all of Patrick’s clothes still in bags, he settled on wearing a pair of Gerard’s boxers and the shirt he had come in with as pajamas.

Patrick groaned, “Fine. Go to work commando. See if I care.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Gerard said with a sneer. Regardless of what reaction he was getting from his boyfriend, he ignored it to go to his dresser and pull out a pair of plaid boxers and a mixed matched pair of socks. Putting them on the top of the dresser first, he let the towel drop to the floor and starting dressing himself. “There’s been times where I forget to do laundry or I just run out of clean underwear specifically.”

“Gross,” the teenager commented, even though he knew he had done the same thing plenty of times from his high school years to the present day.

“Maybe,” the older man added when his feet were covered and his butt wasn’t bare. “But you learn to make due with what you have.”

“I can’t convince you to stay a bit longer?” Patrick brought them back to reality. “You really got to go?”

“I am, but...” Gerard paused to find his words before grabbing his jeans. “You know I’m coming back, right?”

“I’m not a dog,” the teen joked. “I know you’ll come back.”

“I know, I’m just...” He couldn’t find the words, so he sighed, and cradled his boyfriend’s face in his palms. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Patrick replied back and got a quick kiss before Gerard pulled away to finish getting dressed. The teenager, however, couldn’t get that comment about going to work without underwear out of his head. “Do you want me to do laundry while you’re out?”

“Unless you need to do your clothes, don’t worry about it,” the older man said after his shirt was over his head. Quickly, he had a jacket on and his socked feet slipping into a pair of shoes with the heels bent in. “We can do it on Saturday.”

“I have to practice with the guys before the show on Saturday,” the teen reminded him. Patrick’s schedule was going to be busy, they both knew it, but they were gonna make all the time they had with one another last while they could. Really made a simple chore like laundry seem like a mountain out of a molehill.

“Oh yeah,” the older man realized how much was going on for their weekend. Made leaving for work a little more heartbreaking. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked for his laptop bag. “I know you’re here somewhere. I got you ready on Friday just so I could sleep in today.”

“It’s by my guitar,” Patrick pointed out, knowing exactly what his boyfriend was talking about. It was almost poetic when enough thought went into it; Gerard’s bag, filled with markers and Bristol paper and his laptop that were all tools for his job sitting right next to Patrick’s instrument that would carve his way into the music world. It was poetic, even for a moment.

With his bag over his shoulder, his feet finally in his shoes correctly, Gerard walked out of the bedroom with Patrick closely behind him as he started to head out for work. He paused for a second, as a wicked idea popped into his head, and he spun on his heels to face the smaller teenager and bring him into a warm embrace. “Remember that thing we used to say to each other?”

“Vaguely,” Patrick joked. Of course, he remembered. He would never tell a soul, but he would say it to the imaginary Gerard he pretended was in bed with him when single life would be too lonely.

“Well,” Gerard sighed and once again cradled Patrick’s face in his hands. “It would take me days for me to tell you all the ways I love you.”

Smaller hands reached up and grabbed his wrists. “I love you more than words could describe.”

“Love you,” Gerard said before attempting to leave but Patrick’s grip on his wrists were too tight. He looked back up, confused.

“Ten,” the teenager said. Just the number, nothing else. “And then you can go.”

Just like the last time Gerard left Patrick in New Jersey with the full intention of coming back, the teenager begged him for ten losses before the older man could board the train. Not trying to lose any of the magic, but while trying to get the fuck out of the apartment so he wasn’t late for work, Gerard pressed a kiss onto Patrick’s forehead.

“One,” Patrick was counting. It brought a smile to the older man’s face and Patrick could feel it on his skin.

Then the older man kissed between his brows. “Two.”

Another on his nose, like he was a child. It almost made Patrick giggle. “Three.”

Then at the teen’s lips. Not once but twice, pulling at the teenager’s bottom lip with his teeth when Gerard’s hands came down to Patrick’s shoulders. “Four,” Patrick tried to say quickly to catch up when his boyfriend’s lips left his mouth and starting wandering away. “Five.”

“Six,” was right behind his ear and it made him jump. He didn’t think that was an option.

“S-seven!” Patrick almost fell over but Gerard caught him, still not removing his mouth from his boyfriend’s neck.

“Eight!” Was in the same spot but was definitely going to leave a mark with the way Gerard’s was sucking on it.

Suddenly the older man bit down, but not too hard, right on the same spot and it received a yelping, “Nine!”

Gerard made sure Patrick was on stable feet before kissing the teen’s mouth, sweet and tender. The teenager was out of breath for only a few seconds of making out and it showed. So, the older man took advantage of it and said the last number on his own. “Ten. Love you, Patrick, but I gotta go.”

“Yeah,” the teen gasped, finally finding his breath. “Love you too.”

They parted, mostly from Gerard taking the opportunity to run out. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

~~~~~

Sure it took him a moment or so to calm his nerves and convince himself that he didn’t need to masturbate in the shower, but after that, Patrick spent the rest of the morning picking through the bags and boxes he brought with him the day before. His first idea was his clothes; the dirty clothes were packed in their own bags while his clean clothes were placed on hangers. There was enough room in the closet as is to move all of Gerard’s stuff to one side and put his on the other. His dirty clothes ended up the same way his boyfriend’s clothes were so they could be washed that weekend. His hat collection hadn’t found a spot yet; he might need to find a way to display them so they didn’t get squished; maybe a short bookshelf would work, but if it didn’t then he was going to use it for shoes.

Then he started finding places for the guitars. The room wasn’t big so he should probably put them in the living room to save some space. He only had the two but Gerard had a lot of art supplies along with a work desk that took up space in their room.

 _Their_ room.

This was their room and it made the teenager smile. It was all going really fast, but he was going to make every moment last because he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because of that, the two guitars found new homes in the living room; one sitting up in the corner by the tv and entertainment unit while the other was sitting in another corner by the kitchen table. It was definitely not the best of places to put the tools of his trade, but it was allowing Gerard to have his room to work as well.

The record player found a spot under the bed next to a bunch of paintings, sketchbooks, and a scrap pieces of paper. He kept the records in the box he brought with him and they were under the bed as well, just a little further from the edge so he didn’t like kick it. In the process of all of this, he discovered his boyfriend had stashed his shoes underneath his side of the bed. Finding that alone made him change his entire plan.

Gerard had a side of the bed. So did Patrick. So underneath Gerard’s side was going to be _his_ artwork and _his_ shoes while Patrick’s side got _his_ shoes and _his_ records. The teenager was giddy the whole time he piled everything onto the bed to rearrange it. He had a side of the bed. He had a side of the closet. He had someone in his life where they shared sides of shared space. Patrick Stump was nothing but a smiley giggly mess, and for once, it wasn’t the alcohol doing it to him.

Somewhere between putting the toy box underneath the foot of the bed so it was in “no man’s land” and trying to find an empty drawer in the dresser for his underwear, socks, and binders, Patrick’s phone lit up and chirped so loudly, it could be heard throughout the apartment. He dropped the DVDs that he was digging out of one of the drawers onto the bed and scurried over to get it. He barely read the name on the front screen before e flipped it open to answer, “Hey Pete, what’s up?”

“Hey, we just got done taking all of the boxes out of the truck at the new place,” his friend answered. “Wanted to know if you’d like to stop by? Maybe get a look at the place?”

“Yeah, definitely!” He excitedly agreed until he realized, “I don’t have a ride though.”

“I can get you,” Pete offered. “Just need to know where you are.”

“Oh yeah, I...” Patrick started to answer until he realized he had no clue. This place had already been established as his home in his mind and didn’t even know the address. He quickly ran through the apartment looking for some kind of clue until he found a pile of mail. “Halsey Street. I can meet you outside so you don’t have to come in.”

“Ooo,” his friend practically sang back at him. “Is it some fancy place with a doorman where I can’t come in if I don’t know you?”

“No, I just don’t know directions around here to tell you where this street is,” the teenager confessed. “So if I’m outside, it might make it easier for you.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Pete snickered. “Give me like twenty minutes? I’ve got Andy’s truck.”

“Sure,” the teenager agreed while looking down at his current outfit: Gerard’s boxers and his shirt from yesterday. He’d need the time to get dressed. “Sounds good.”

~~~~~

The guys found a two bedroom apartment within walking distance from Patrick lived; walking distance for Andy but closer to “grumbling and complaining the whole time” kind of walking distance for Patrick.  
In addition to the walk he wasn’t able to avoid, (because Pete Mapquested it and walked over instead of driving) the stairway up to their new home was long and cramped. The walls were so white, it was almost obnoxious and Patrick found himself picking at the textured walls outside of the apartment while Pete knocked on the wooden door.

“Haven’t had keys made yet,” Pete admitted.

“Well it’s your first day,” Patrick added. “Surprised you all found a place so fast.”

“Me too!” the heavily tattooed man agreed. “Apparently this place has been empty for months and we were the first applicants without cats so... got lucky.”

Joe opened up the door to what would be three-fourths of the band’s home. “Welcome!” the other teenager proudly announced. “This is where the magic is never gonna happen because we’re three guys sharing an apartment together.”

Patrick chuckled along with Pete at the terrible joke and made his way inside the apartment. The inside felt homier than the hall did. Cream walls. Mix and match white and black counters. Light brown fake wooden cabinets. “Looks so nice here,” Patrick commented as he walked around a bit. “I’m kinda jealous.”

“Can’t be better than what you have,” Andy mentioned from the couch that was obviously commandeered from a roadside trash pickup.

“No, not exactly,” Patrick tried explaining. “This place just... reminds me of home.” He meant Chicago. He had a new home in New Jersey just a few blocks away, but deep down, his home was his roots in Chicago.

“Reminds me of Pete’s old place,” Joe added. “So I guess I can see how it’s like Chicago.”

“Amazing,” Patrick absentmindedly sighed. Without really thinking about how it wasn’t his place to wander around in, he went towards the bathroom, finding it to be just as cramped as the stairway leading up to the apartment. The countertop with the sink was almost right on top of the toilet, which was practically just inches away from the shower, which was _just_ a shower. He looked over at the mirror and pulled at the side to find the medicine cabinet behind it, only with a broken shelf in the middle of it. “Never mind, I found the Jersey side of this place.”

“I know right?!” Pete commented. The older man pointed out the broken shelf. “That was all me though; broke it when we were doing the tour yesterday.”

“Of course it is,” the teen said with an eye roll. He walked further into the apartment, down a hall with a small closet that had accordion style doors (which Pete joked that it would be Patrick’s room if he ever needed a place to crash) and his eyes widen at the great sight that could only be, “Brick walls!”

“My favorite part,” Joe added as he came up behind the two of them, Andy following close behind. The old futon couch from Pete’s old place was the only thing in the room at the moment besides the piles of boxes from the move, but it still didn’t hide how great the walls looked. “Knew you’d like it too.”

“Oh my god the bar too!” Patrick didn’t have an eye for architecture or anything, but he could be easily impressed by things like the floating island counter with bar shelving and the single shelf that traced around the edge of the room that was already holding a few empty root beer bottles. “This’ll be great for you guys.”

“You’ll be here too,” Pete added and clapped his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “We’ve still got to practice and shit man.”

“Yeah,” Patrick sighed. “We do.”

It was Monday.

They had a show that weekend.

They had a lot of work to do. Starting with Andy’s drums. “Have we figured out how to get Andy a kit?”

“We were thinking pawn shops first,” Joe answered. “Then an actual music store or two.”

“When?” The shorter teen asked. “We gotta get this going if we want to practice.”

“Today?” Pete offered. “We can unpack and do everything else later. I got to agree with Patrick, we need to get started on making the lyrics into songs. We can’t do that overnight.”

“Your landlord know about the noise?” Patrick asked again, looking at all three of his best friends for an answer.

“We’ll find out,” Pete laughed and left their living room that would quickly become the practice room when they could find a drum kit. It became evident that the search for Andy’s instrument was happening right then, and Patrick started to follow the other two men out of the room before he felt a tug on his arm.

He spun on the balls of his feet to see Joe, wide-eyed and worried. “You okay?”

“I just wanted to check with you,” Joe said, putting his hands in his pockets which only made him look more nervous. “Yesterday was a blur. From you coming back to all of us leaving. I just wanted to make sure we were good. I don’t want you faking it for the sake of the band. We’re not even a band yet.”

“You mean... when you told the guys about what we did?” Patrick started to piece it together.

“Yeah,” the taller teen agreed and hung his head in shame. Not one of his best moments but anything that was done in anger was never good to start out with. “I really fucked up and I know I can’t make it up to you. I just wanted to -“

“Joe, it’s okay,” Patrick interrupted. It really wasn’t but they weren’t going to move forward if they both kept dragging their heels through it. “They’d probably find out eventually what we did. We just got to move on.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “I guess you’re right.”

“If you could though,” the shorter teen started as he led the two of them out to where their friends were waiting on them. “I’d like to leave my guitars here. There’s not a lot of space where I’m at, plus if they’re here, I won’t have to lug them around with me, and I know you’ll take care of them.”

A smile slowly stretched across Joe’s face. This wasn’t just about getting over their fight or the other teen being lazy about his guitars, this was a gesture to show him how much Patrick had trusted him. “Of course. I’ll treat them like my own.”

“Good,” Patrick beamed and patted his friend on the back. “Cuz now I know where you live.”

~~~~~

Gerard had been a little antsy all day at work. He couldn’t figure out quite yet if it was the drugs leaving his system or if it was his lack of patience to get home to see his boyfriend. He kept telling himself it had to be the former because if he kept dwelling on the idea of getting high, the sensation would take over. So he filled his entire day with thoughts of Patrick.

It was actually a good thing when his coworker noticed. “You’re looking smilier than usual,” Joe Boyle noted the look on the other man’s face.

“Yeah,” Gerard admitted. “Reunited with the ex-boyfriend.”

“The college boy?” The slim grungy guy asked, knowing the history. “Good for you.”

“He’s not really ‘the college boy’ anymore. He’s at my place right now,” Gerard announced, thinking it to be completely true since surely Patrick had no reason to leave the apartment.

“Beauty school drop-out?” Joe joked as he knelt by Gerard’s workstation and then flipped the devil-lock out of his face. “Now he’s a gold digger?”

“Far from it,” the long-haired man snickered at the thought. “He made a comment awhile back about how he’d rather want to be homeless with me than rich and alone.”

“Ooo,” his coworker jested. “You need to lock that shit down. That’s husband material right there.”

“Maybe one day,” Gerard joked. Then he gave it some more thought.

 Definitely not a maybe. 

He was definitely going to marry that boy.

The thought kept rushing through his brain again and again like a hamster on a wheel that couldn’t get off. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Patrick. He wanted a house, he wanted kids, he wanted a dog with a stupid name and he wanted the family to be bunched up in a car to go on long road trips to visit Patrick’s family. The whole time he was heading home, his mind was running daydreams of that white picket fence fantasy like a double feature. He was so overcome with excitement over the idea of it all, he didn’t know how to react when he came to his apartment door and found Patrick sitting outside of it.

“Hi,” Patrick told him nonchalantly as if hanging out in the hallway was a normalcy for the two of them.

“Hey! Why aren’t you inside?” Gerard questioned as he got closer. His boyfriend stood up and leaned on the wall to the side of the door as the older man found his keys and unlocked it for the two of them.

“The guys found a place, it’s just a few blocks over,” Patrick admitted. “I went to go see it but forgot I didn’t have a key until I got back.”

“Have you been here long?” The older man kept drilling questions.

“No,” the teenager said with a shrug. “We went looking for a drum kit for Andy and we managed to make our own with some Frankenstein music magic from parts we found at a pawnshop and new pieces from the actual music store on the other side of town.”

Oh shit.

The band.

That was the atomic bomb on Gerard’s nuclear family dream. Couldn’t go on road trips if Patrick was on tour. Couldn’t be a normal family with a rock star for a husband. All the voices were back, whispering terrible thoughts into his ear about why this wouldn’t work. But a little angel came through and broke through it all.

“How was work? First day back from the show, must have been exhausting,” Patrick asked, chipper as ever.

Gerard smiled. It was going to be alright; if he could get the boy of his dreams back, he could make sure that Patrick could follow his own. “It was good - but yeah - really long. A lot of drawing for promos as opposed to storyboards for today. I’ll go in for voices sometime next week.”

“That’s awesome,” the teenager said with a smile and walked further into the apartment so Gerard could close the door behind them.

“No comment? I’m still doing the voice,” the older man joked as he put his work bag on the couch.

“What would you say if I tell you that I knew that already?” Patrick joked as he walked back to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s middle.

“You knew?” He wrapped his own arms around Patrick’s back and hung his head close to the teen’s forehead so his hair fell down and enveloped the two of them.

“I watched the show, remember?” the teenager reminded him.

“Oh god, yeah,” the older man exclaimed quietly.

“I’d see your name listed so many times in the credits, it’s actually a miracle that Justin never noticed,” Patrick silently commented.

That white picket fence wasn’t happening tomorrow, but he’d be damned if it wasn’t going to happen one day. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Patrick repeated. “Can I go lay down? Pete made me walk.”

“Made you walk?!” Gerard jokingly asked back as the couple separated and started to retreat to the bedroom. “How dare he!”

“I know! That a-hole!” The teenager laughed as he started to undress when he reached the bedroom.

“You got a lot done today,” the older of the two noted how much of the room had been unpacked from that morning.

“I did,” Patrick agreed while his clothes, minus his boxers and his binder, ended up in the hamper. Once he had it off, his binder was then placed in a drawer that had taken over, and he had to bring it to Gerard’s attention. “I even gave myself an underwear drawer.”

“Wasn’t that where my DVDs were?” The older man noted the location.

“Yeah, I put them out in the living room with the other movies. I figured it didn’t matter is it was VHS or DVD, a movie’s a movie,” Patrick explained his train of thought while grabbing a shirt from his side of the closet.

“Yeah, but...” Gerard trailed off. He noticed all of his clothes were on one side of the closet now, but that wasn’t the biggest thing on his mind. ”The ones in the all black cases are porn.”

Patrick dropped his shirt on the floor. “There was a bunch of those!”

“I’ve been a lonely creepy old man for much longer than I’ve been with you,” he admitted.

“Jesus man!” Patrick shouted and quickly got dressed so he could sit in bed.

His boyfriend quickly followed suit just to lay alongside the teenager. “Besides having to move my porn collection, what else is there left to unpack?”

“Another bag of clothes, plus my dirty clothes, my hats, and all of my leftover college stuff,” ready teenager explained. “My guitars are going over to the guys’ place so I don’t have to bring it with me when I go to practice.“

“You doing that again tomorrow?” Gerard asked when his boyfriend was burying himself underneath the covers. “I can give you the key so long as you promise to be home before me.”

“That’ll work until we get copies made,” Patrick sighed into the pillow. “I don’t know why I’m so tired, it really wasn’t that exhausting.”

“I feel you,” Gerard agreed. “I totally left my stuff out on the couch so I can get it in the morning. It’s not even that late yet, I'm just so fucking tired.”

“I’ll make you help me unpack when you come home tomorrow then,” the teenager joked. “I still have to find a spot for my porn collection.”

“We can unpack it now,” Gerard offered with a smirk.

“We don’t have to have sex all the time since we’re back with each other,” Patrick told the older man. “You know that right?”

“Should I take that as a hint?” his boyfriend asked.

“Well, you just said that you were tired,” the teen reminded him. “We don’t have to fuck like catholic rabbits on a three day weekend.”

“But if you need me to,” Gerard found himself defending his libido, even though that wasn’t what was being questioned. “I totally can.”

“I get that you want to make up for lost time, but I don’t want to be doing that by fucking non-stop,” Patrick explained. “I want to spend time with you, Gerard. Especially if this musician thing picks up. We won’t have that much time to do all the trivial things we want to do."

Gerard was completely touched, but he didn't know how to voice his opinion, especially since it was exactly what he needed to hear after all he thought about for most of the day.

"You know," the teenager continued to explain his side. "I don’t want to be just another fuck toy for you. I want a future with you, and I think we both want that, but that’s not gonna happen if we don’t take this seriously, especially when we actually have time with each other."

“Yeah, absolutely,” Gerard agreed.

“I mean it,” Patrick started pleading his case. “I want to meet your parents, I want to be taken to company forced family fun outings, I want us to have Christmas together; I want all of that! I’m not going to be your boyfriend forever.”

“But in a good way right?” Gerard started thinking about to his daydreams again; the house and kids with Patrick until death do they part. There was no way his boyfriend wasn’t thinking the same thing long term, they just needed to take their time to get there. There wasn’t a rush to the finish, they could take their time, even if they only had so much of it with each other. “I’d love to spend all of my time with you.”

“Me too,” Patrick agreed and kissed his boyfriend briefly before resting his head back on the pillow. “We got a long day ahead of us.”

“We’ll get through it,” the older man joked and cuddled up to the smaller body. “We got each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have managed to get trigger thumb from the typing up the last few chapters, so there may be a slow pace at which the next ones come out. In addition to which, my beta reader and I are working on the Warped Tour chapters while simultaneously trying figure out if we will be attending Warped this year as its the last year for Warped. I'm also attending a bunch of other shows (like The Descendants, AFI, and the Koffin Kats) in the next few months while also prepping to see Fall Out Boy in concert for the third time. Typically, I'm not the one driving for these shows and I've been caught writing in the back seat. Good news for you guys, great times for me!  
> Love you all,  
> \- Frankie


	4. You sing the words but don't know what it means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "I'm Not Okay" by My Chemical Romance

Gerard’s state of being was up and down over the span of the next week. He was obviously jittery at times and even twitchy at others. Then there was the other end where he’d come home tired as hell, even after taking a nap on the train home. Patrick tried to be there and help any chance he got but the older man kept brushing it off, “You’ve got band stuff to worry about. Don’t worry about me.”

Patrick agreed to it for the most part but he was always worrying. Gerard was always in the back of his mind. Because of that, he insisted Gerard had to be at their first show. The older man was going to be there anyway, he was Patrick’s number one fan after all, but now Patrick had his boyfriend on his hip to keep an extra close eye on him.

They were opening, so they had to be there early. The other bands were there as well as early, but the other bands didn’t have such a posse. Gabe and Mikey showed up early to show their support until the two of them got distracted with each other. Christa was there by the bar until Ray got out of work and then they hung around the Pencey Prep table. Gerard hung around his boyfriend until Patrick gave him permission to run off.

“Don’t go home with any strangers,” the teenager joked as his boyfriend walked off, guitar on his back and an amp in hand.

“Someone’s already claimed me,” the older man sassed back before going over towards his old friends.

Gabe and Mikey made their way over around the same time. It’s not like Gerard didn’t see them that often, but it wasn’t a bad thing. “Hey,” his younger brother greeted him. “What’s up?”

“Fall Out Boy’s here,” he answered. “Got to show my support. And kick the ass of whoever tries to grab the lead singer.”

“Isn’t Patrick going to be jealous?” Gabe asked and gained a thuddy pat on the chest from the back of his boyfriend’s hand.

“Patrick is the singer, dumbass,” Mikey smarted off.

“Oh!” Gabe suddenly realized the situation. “Good for them!”

“Yeah,” Gerard added what little he could to the conversation. Everything quickly became all about Frank and his band. The next show Pencey was going to do. The CDs they had made. The shirts that were still in the box. It was a great distraction at the moment, but he was still jittery as hell.

He almost literally bouncing when Patrick walked up. “Hey, guys!”

Everyone greeted him nicely. It was a lethargic experience at the moment; for most of Gerard’s friends, his brother included, this was the first time they had seen Patrick since the two of them got together. Word traveled fast in Jersey, so everyone knew as soon as Mikey did. While no one had said anything to Gerard about it, but there had been comments throughout the group about the two of them being together again; in particular, their timing. Patrick had a band but Gerard had a *job*. If the band needed anything or had some unexpected expenses, Gerard could bail them out. They didn’t know that that was never going to happen, but the rumors flew faster than a bird out of its cage.

“In a band now, huh?” Frank piped up first.

“Yeah,” Patrick shrugged it off. “Pete and I wrote lyrics for years but it never dawned on us how we could make them into songs of our own until recently. Joe’s got a guitar of his own and we scoured our way through a bunch of pawn shops to get Andy a drum set.”

“That’s cool,” Frank replied while eyeing Gerard for a reaction. Some of the other Jersey people seemed to be doing the same or looking at one another for some kind of confirmation. Gerard, on the other hand, was still a jittery mess and was quickly distracting himself with Pencey Prep merchandise to keep his hands from picking anything else.

“Yeah, took up all of mine and Andy’s savings to get it, so I’m praying it’ll all be worth it,” Patrick admitted with a chuckle.

That seemed to prove enough to kill every theory that Patrick was just a gold digger.

“Well, welcome to the Loop Lounge,” Frank said proudly. It seemed his entire demeanor had changed once his friend’s boyfriend had been cleared of any wrongdoings. “You may be from Chicago, but now you’re honorary Jersey people.”

“Glad to be here,” the teenager chuckled before his attention was taken away to his boyfriend. Gerard had to stop rearranging the album’s long enough to start picking loose threads off of patches. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Gerard snapped. “You can stop asking. I’m still o-fucking-kay.”

“I get that,” the teenager groaned. This was part of the withdrawals. The snapping, the agitation, the emotional outbursts, all a reaction from the drugs he hadn’t taken in a little less than a week. It would pass, but the road to get there was going to be hard. Never stopped him from asking how his boyfriend was, and apparently, that’s something he did often. “I can still worry.”

“Yeah...” the older man repeated, realizing his mistake. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, what did I say?” Patrick asked as he got super close to his boyfriend. “We’re in this together. We can do this.”

“Yeah,” Gerard agreed but hung his head low. This was hard. He didn’t think it’d be easy, but he didn’t think withdrawals would be this painful or make him feel like he wasn’t in his own skin.

“I’ve got a show,” the teen reminded him. “You take care of yourself while I’m up there.”

“Will do,” he loosely promised. As his boyfriend walked away, he let out a long overdrawn sigh. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Because this place is a bar?” Ray asked, thinking he put it all together.

“And because he’s here,” Gerard groaned, eyes fixated on Patrick. “If I fuck up it’ll embarrass him.”

He’d do anything for that boy. Standing there in the middle of the room, surrounded by temptation, he had to focus on what really mattered here. He was going to see Patrick perform for the first real time ever. He couldn’t fuck that up. He couldn’t make this first show their last show.

~~~~~

Every cell in his body was either agitated or telling him to leave. His friends were drinking and having a good time but he couldn’t partake in that and he was pissed as hell for putting himself in such a situation. Sure, he wanted to support Patrick and the band, but he was starting to hit his limit. His friends were doing their own thing and ignoring him. Fall Out Boy was setting up for their show and ignoring him. All of the attendees were going about their business and ignoring him. He was always an individual who enjoyed solitude but this was a time that he didn’t want to be ignored. It was getting close to show time, both in a literal and metaphorical sense.

He could feel the ants on his skin crawling even faster. The little legs vibrating gently along the hairs of his arms. The jittery feeling in his legs started to shake out into the floor, like an earthquake; all the while, the fluttering feeling his chest started to echo outward, leaving him nauseous. Gerard was freaking out and he wanted something to take the edge off.

He needed a drink. Probably not an alcoholic one. Maybe an alcoholic one. If Patrick didn’t notice he could have just one, right? One drink was a hell of a lot better than the coke he was on. Or the pills he’d take. Or most things in between. So he could definitely try.

No. That’s not what Patrick would want. That’s not what they had worked on. A drink? Yes. He’d get a red bull. Or a soda. That wouldn’t be a problem. Patrick was a fan of a splash cherry in his Diet Coke, Gerard could do the same; it would be like a cherry bomb, just without the fun. That’s what he decided on between his spot on the wall and the bar. One cherry Coke. He kept rehearsing it in his head. One cherry Coke. It really wasn’t that hard but he had it overworked in his brain that he couldn’t make heads or tails of it all at that point. One cherry Coke. If he could make it to the bar and back without stuttering or forgetting anything, then he could get through the night.

“One cherry Coke,” Gerard ordered his drink when he arrived at the bar.

He received a nod from the bartender, who then took another order before making the group of drinks before he felt a presence next to him. Gerard looked over at the man, thin and pale with a long devil lock similar to his coworker’s, attempt to order a drink of his own. “Hey! Hey! Hey-!”

“Just give it a second,” Gerard tried to calm the man. “Small bar. One bartender. Got to make drinks before they can take more requests.”

“Good point,” the stranger agreed and took the empty bar stool next to where Gerard was leaning against the counter. “Here for the bands?”

It took the older man a moment to realize there were the seeds of a conversation starting there but he tried to catch the fumble quickly. “Oh yeah. I know Pencey personally. Plus the new guys.”

Gerard vaguely recognized this guy. Maybe they both knew Ray or maybe it had something to do with them being around the college around the same time but Gerard definitely knew that he knew this guy. More than anything, he knew this guy had a reputation of some sort as an amazing guitarist, so somewhere in the older man’s mind, he decided that he couldn’t fuck up the conversation or offend this stranger in case the guy was in another band. Or was a performer for another night. Or was a producer.

“The new guys?” The wanna-be-Danzig asked, almost sounding unsure of how any of the bands could be new.

“Fall Out Boy,” Gerard answered. “They’re technically from Chicago but they’re getting their start here.”

“What better place than Jersey, am I right?” The stranger said before putting a hand out to formally introduce himself. “Matt.”

“Gerard,” he casually said as he shook the hand extended before him.

“Wow, that’s a hell of a name,” Matt commented.

“Imagine living with it,” the older man added. Quickly his drink was being passed over to him in a cheap clear plastic cup while his new acquaintance finally ordered his drink.

“Two rum and Cokes, please and thank you,” he gave out his order. Gerard thought that this man must have been trying to start the party a little early but knew damn well he shouldn’t say a thing since he was doing the same shit just a few weeks ago, so he just silently sipped his cherry Coke to keep his mouth busy with something other than badmouthing strangers. The cherry was sweet, but it was just a cheap imitation of what he could be doing. “So how do you know Pencey?”

“I know Frank,” Gerard admitted. “I used to work by the university and we got to know to him personally. Hambone is a bad ass on his accord, but Frank’s the only one I know super well.”

“And the other band?”

“Dating the...” he paused, not knowing if he should out himself that quickly for being non-hetero or even if he should talk about dating someone in the band. Not everyone was as open-minded as his friends and surely not everyone would see him as a wonderful supporting boyfriend instead of the fame leech he was convincing himself he was. “They all went to the university too. I got to know them before they were a band, so it’s super cool to see them together like this.”

“All these people, same university, all knowing you,” Matt started to ponder aloud. “Makes it sound like you’ve got a golden touch to make these musicians happen.”

“I wish,” Gerard chuckled. “Think I would have used it on myself first to be honest.”

Suddenly, the drinks for his company were presented. He thought nothing of it until one was pushed in his general direction and the worst possible thing happened to Gerard Way.

“Here,” Matt announced. “A toast to new beginnings!”

“I-uh...” He stammered, not knowing what to do how to form the thoughts or even get the words out of his mouth. “I don’t -“

“C’mon,” The stranger beckoned. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

With that, Gerard swallowed his pride and picked up the plastic cup, clinked it against the one Matt held as if they were glass being used for a real toast, and drank all of it like it was a shot. It was a little too much at once, as it proved to get the better of him, and he spat the ice back into his cup. His brow had knitted together as the taste of the rum hit him. It burned like the memory of a past mistake in the back of his mind. This was bad.

Matt had finished his drink, not as quickly but certainly without as much as of a problem as Gerard had, and then paid the bartender in cash with his empty cup next to the bills. “Great! I’ll see you later then, Gerard.”

“Yeah,” the older man agreed, still holding onto his empty cup. “Catch you later, Matt.”

He placed the empty cup on the edge of the bar and grabbed the one full of cherry Coke, all the while pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d feel the effects later, especially the shame that came with it.

Unfortunately, Patrick was there to speed up the process. The teenager popped up, seemingly out of thin air, right next to Gerard. “What the hell did you drink?”

“Oh shit,” the older man grumbled, knowing he was in deep shit.

“What did you drink with that dude?” Patrick asked again, almost growling.

“A Coke... with rum,” Gerard started to say and then quickly added the rest in order to make his case. “I didn’t know what he was doing and I didn’t want -“

“You tell them no!” The teen shouted, gaining the attention of some people nearby. “I don’t care about their feelings! I care about you!”

“I couldn’t say no!” Gerard pleaded. “That’d be rude!”

“Baby, no,” the teenager whined. “You can’t drink! That means here too!”

“What am I supposed to do? Tell him no?” Gerard tried to explain but it only made Patrick angrier.

The teen slapped the drink out of Gerard’s hand before cupping the older man’s face in his palms. “You promised me! You were gonna get clean.”

“I...” He did. He promised a lot of things to get Patrick back and now it was all quickly backfiring and blowing up in his face. Promises were easy to say but not as easy to keep. “I did. I’m sorry.”

“No more,” Patrick told him, gently letting go of his boyfriend’s face and resting his hands on the older man’s shoulders. “I mean it. If someone offers you a drink, you get a soda. No more alcohol.”

“Yes sir,” Gerard agreed. He was instantly embarrassed and regretted everything. Patrick was right, he shouldn’t have accepted the drink, even if it meant he was rude. “I promise.”

“I’m not mad,” Patrick groaned. Of course, he was mad, he just didn’t feel like he could be mad at Gerard. He was mad at the situation. He was mad at the addiction. He couldn’t be mad at Gerard; the older man was the victim here. “I just...”

“I know, I should have just... toasted with my drink,” Gerard mentioned while vaguely motioning towards the spilled remains of his original drink of choice.

“What did you have?” Patrick asked, looking down at the small mess he made.

“Cherry Coke,” the older man repeated it for what had to be the hundredth time that night.

“No alcohol?”

“No alcohol.”

“Oh god,” the teen groaned. He was so wrapped up in seeing his boyfriend fuck up that he missed the fact that Gerard had actually put forth an effort. A great effort. It just got away from him for a second. Thankfully, Patrick had a small plan to make it through the night. “We’re going on in like fifteen minutes. You want to hang out with me until then?”

“Yeah,” the older man agreed. “Of course.”

“Hey,” the bartender tried to get Patrick’s attention. “Aren’t you in one of the bands?”

“Oh, yeah,” the teenager admitted. “The first band up.”

“You know you get free drinks, right?” The bartender continued.

“Oh! Then, um... cherry Coke?” Must have been a replacement for the one he slapped out of Gerard’s hand. The bartender hadn’t noticed the whole ordeal that started with the cup on the ground but had noticed that a musician was standing close to the bar. Good thing since neither of them wanted to clean it up. Not that they wouldn’t have if they were prompted, especially since Patrick was that kind of guy, but they were both a little preoccupied with one another at the moment.

“You know you can get something heavier, right?” The bartender asked, making the drink anyway.

“I think I’m good,” Patrick said and eyed his boyfriend briefly, looking for a form of confirmation.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Gerard repeated.

~~~~~

The only shirts for sale were the ones Pete had made using cardboard, card-stock, tape, and spray paint. They didn’t have a lot of cash yet, so it was the best they could scramble together in the span of a week. On top of it all, the shirts were found at a Salvation Army for less than the price of the spray paint, total. The worst part was, they sold a few shirts and it was going straight to Pete’s already enormous ego. When the band had to go on stage, it gave Gerard something to do; Pete couldn’t play bass and sell what little merch hey had.

Why they didn’t think about this an option earlier was a mystery between them both.

The lights dimmed a bit when they got on stage. It made Gerard’s heart skip a beat or two; he was getting to Patrick in his natural environment. Andy was already behind the Franken-kit by the time everyone else had gotten on stage; Pete and Joe went on together and went to opposite ends of the stage. The stage lights lit up and Patrick scurried on stage, obviously running a little far behind everyone else. He flipped his guitar from his back to his front and walked up to the mic.

“We’re -“ he started to say but he realized the mic was a little too tall so he readjusted it on the stand. “We’re Fall Out Boy and we're here to fuck you up, New Jersey.”

Gerard was kind of stunned. He never heard that side of Patrick before.

The band started up, playing together but also sounding a bit off. It was their first time playing together on stage but the last week of practice was paying off.

“Hope this is the last time,” Patrick finally sang. Gerard hadn’t heard this song before but he loved the faces his boyfriend made. Between the overdone ohs and how his mouth would be overdrawn with some of the words, it was all a sight to see.

Pete was really into it. Which made sense. This wasn’t his first band. Same with Andy. Not really Joe. It was easy to tell Patrick and Joe weren’t used to performing, but they were both such naturals, it was a great experience to watch.

“Between me and this loss of sleep,” Patrick stressed the last word, so beautifully. He loved seeing his boyfriend make these faces; it was like seeing the teen in bed but on a whole new level. “Over you.”

“This is side one,” he indicated with a finger which he then rotated over. “Flip me over. I know I’m not your favorite record.”

Gerard found a comfortable position to stick himself in so he could watch the show. He was so happy right then. All of his troubles had melted away with the singing. Given the harsh reality of the lyrics, it should have been the opposite, but this was the love of his life doing what he did best. Hell, if Patrick Stump was built for anything, he was built by hand to be a performer. From the singing to the guitar playing to the lyric writing, this boy was the full package.

The song had ended just a little too fast for Gerard to realize it. He had been paying attention to the performance and not the lyrics; but with only one song down, he had another chance to listen to what his boyfriend and Pete had created.

“Thank you, Jersey!” Pete yelled out. Patrick started to hide more in the back like he was going to sing so long as the bassist did all of the talking. “This next one is about wanting to be with someone who isn’t even interested in you and when it hurts - “ someone in the crowd shouted in agreement and Pete responded back “ - He knows what I’m talking about! Or when you think you’re better off jumping ship in a relationship that’s going nowhere or that you’re better off alone! Here’s to all the wallflowers and the last picks! This is ‘Sugar!’”

The music started up again with a hook that would go straight to everyone’s hearts. This was a song that would sound amazing even years from now, possibly decades. Gerard was going to love it, regardless, because that’s how intense the rose tint was on his glasses, but it all came to a halt when he heard the first words of the song.

“Am I more than you bargained for yet?”

Patrick looked him dead in the eyes, which didn’t help the overall feeling of dread. He saw his boyfriend’s eyes dart to other people in the crowd, and that made his heart sink even further. This was bad.

“Cuz I’ve been dying to tell you, anything...”

It was always in the back of his mind. There could be a song about him. There could be lyrics about how shitty of a person he was. But never, ever, had he imagined that Patrick would have had a song about the other side of their relationship. He thought that he had done a good job (definitely not a great job because of his own ignorance) of proving that Patrick being trans wasn’t an issue.

Obviously, he hadn’t done good enough.

He tried not to dwell on it, but it did ruin the rest of Fall Out Boy’s performance for him. Patrick didn’t look over at him much for the rest of the show anyway. Pete did most of the talking after that first announcement, so it was very easy for him to hide despite being the lead singer. Eventually, it had to end with Pete thanking the Loop, Andy jamming out on his drums one last time, and Joe flipping off the crowd. Patrick snuck off stage when they were done.

Gerard didn’t want to rush up of the band immediately; he needed to play his hand carefully. So he watched his boyfriend from the comfort of his chair behind the shield that was the merch table. Didn’t help that a few fans popped by to buy some shirts and get some information. The band didn’t have a CD to their name to help them out but Gerard did improvise with a stack of cocktail napkins from the bar to pass out the name of the band and the location of their next gig. They were doing that well that they had another dog before the first one was even over. Pete could sell ice cubes to snowmen and make it sound like a good investment.

Ever so slowly, the band made their way over to the table. Andy had the opportunity to sign a girl’s boobs, and when he saw she had similar straight edge tattoos, he had to get a sharpie to give her his autograph and his phone number. Gerard flipped a marker in his direction that Andy promptly caught, thanked him, and then ran off in the opposite direction. Joe had a few drinks in his system already and it was starting to show. Pete was talking nonstop to Matt, who was then proving himself to be somewhat of a musician himself, and Patrick was beelining for the table.

“Hey, baby!” The teen greeted him with a hug once he got behind the table. “Did you enjoy the show from back here?”

The older man didn’t realize how much Patrick had sweat on stage until he had the teenager in his arms. “Yeah, you were amazing! Can’t wait for Tuesday, you’ll be even better if that’s even possible.”

Patrick leaned back, to see all of Gerard’s face without his hat in the way, and gave one of those cheeky smiles that went from sideburn to sideburn. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” the older man sighed but he quickly realized he couldn’t keep his toxic thoughts to himself. “I have a question about that song, ‘Sugar.’”

“The name’s a work in progress,” the teen admitted and turned from his boyfriend to grab a sharpie of his own. “You know how I love being called that though.”

“That song’s not about us is it?” Gerard asked, loud enough for anyone to hear.

Patrick looked back at him with sad eyes that could have been read as an answer, but all he gave was, “Not... exactly. We can talk about it later. When there are fewer people here.”

“Okay...” the older man sighed. “Is everything okay with us?”

“Of course, at least I hope it is,” the teen said as he took a deep breath. “You holding up alright?”

“Yeah,” Gerard told his boyfriend with a small grin on his face. Maybe he was blowing everything up in his head again. Typical. “You need to go back to the band?”

“Yeah, but only if you don’t need me,” the teenager said as he ran his hand up to rest on the side of Gerard’s face. “Otherwise, I can just see ya in a bit?”

“See ya in a bit,” Gerard told him, letting the teenager go back to the crowd of fans. He could wait a little bit. He waited a long enough time already. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Patrick said back with a quick kiss that required him to go to his tiptoes before he broke away to go back to the bar.

~~~~~

Three AM couldn’t come fast enough. It took them forever to go back to the apartment. Frank and his band were fucking amazing and then they all wanted to hang out after the show but it just dragged the night along. Then he had to drive Patrick and Joe back to the Fall Out Apartment to drop off their equipment and gear. On top of it, the band needed help getting their stuff up the narrow hall and into their apartment. Gerard couldn’t be happier when he got home, let alone in bed with Patrick next to him.

It wasn’t even twenty minutes between parking the car and getting into their bed. Patrick was almost literally melting into the pillows. The older man took a moment to enjoy the sweet cherub-like face before commenting, “You were amazing tonight.”

“Thanks,” the teenager grumbled. “So glad you were there tonight.”

“Yeah... can I ask about the thing again?” Gerard nudged at the issue instead of blatantly asking.

“What are you asking exactly?” Patrick asked for clarification as he pushed himself into his arms, now folded up beneath him.

“That song’s not about us, is it?” he asked it again, this time in a whisper, despite how they were clearly all alone.

“Why would you think that?” The teen looked at him with a puzzled look

“The part... ‘Am I more than you bargained for, yet?’” Gerard continued. “You’ll never be. At least to me. I don’t care what happens, you know that right?”

“I know but...” Patrick started but then he stopped, possibly looking for the right way to word it. “It’s easy to make a promise like that. You’re on the outside looking at me; there’s a lot of shit attached to this that you have no idea about. There’s a lot more to this than just injections and changing pronouns, Gee. One day I’m gonna get surgery to remove my tits. Then I’ll have to go to court to get my name changed. And then maybe more surgeries after that. And then anything we’d want to do after that is going to be a problem! If we want to get married or adopt kids - it’s all going to depend on how I’ll be identified!”

“That’s not -“ he tried to protest but Patrick shot him down.

“It’s a lot!” The teenager argues back. “It’s really easy to say that you’ll be there for me now, but the road to get to where I want to be is long and terrible. People like me aren’t treated right. It’s not just gonna be me in the sideshow car, it’d be whoever I’m in a relationship within there with me. There are times I think you should just jump out of the car before this gets to be too much and I crash us into a wreck. Just jump ship before this gets to be too much.”

“You really think after all the shit we’ve done so far that that’ll change anything?” Gerard finally got a word in edgewise.

“It’s gonna haunt me,” the teenager admitted. “I always wonder what is gonna be the final straw or what will be the last piece of baggage to break this relationship. I know it’s gonna be me.”

“Just think how I had no problem going through hell and back just so I can be there with you. Like right here, in bed with you,” the older man added. “I did it once to be by your side now; it’d be easier with you next to me.”

“You don’t mean -“

“I don’t see how I can expect you to stand by my side while I’m dealing with this sobriety shit and not do the same for you,” Gerard continued. “I get it it’ll be hard and whatever, but I want to be there with you when this shit happens. I want to be there by your side when you wake up from those surgeries. I want to be there in court with you. I want to be there with you to the end. This shit is out of our control. These are demons. Our personal demons. And we can’t do it alone.”

Patrick teared up a bit. “We’ll do it together then.”

“Alone together?” The older man repeated their mantra.

“Of course,” the teen agreed. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They rearranged themselves again, finally allowing themselves to start to sleep. But Patrick couldn’t let it go, even with Gerard’s arms wrapped around him.

“You’re amazing,” Patrick started to say as he pulled his boyfriend’s arm closer to himself. “Next time I start thinking about how easy it would be for you to jump ship, I’m gonna think of this moment.”

“I’m like an anchor,” Gerard sassed off. “I’ll keep you grounded.”

“Not quite the same analogy,” the teenager giggled. “But I know what you mean.”

The older man curled up closer to Patrick’s middle, letting his boyfriend play with his hair as the two of them started to let the conversation die off.

“How are you doing?” Patrick asked, quietly between head pats. “Did that one drink make things worse?”

“No. I mean, it’s not making it any better, but it’s not the worse it’s been so far,” the older man admitted.

“When was it the worst? If there even was a 'worse?'” Patrick couldn’t word it correctly.

“I don’t think I’ve hit it yet,” Gerard continued to spill his guts out. “But... it’ll be good. You know?”

“What do you mean?”

“It reminds me of one of my favorite songs,” the older man lamented. “Today, by the Smashing Pumpkins.”

“How so?” Patrick pestered him.

“It’s a song about suicide...” he explained. “Today is the greatest day ever because it can’t get any worse than this.”

“You’re not thinking of -“ his boyfriend asked, shocked.

“No! I just...” Gerard tried to explain the feeling in the pit of his stomach. “It’s like when you can see the storm on your back porch coming towards you but it hasn’t hit you yet.”

“Yeah...” the teenager agreed.

“I have a feeling it’s gonna get worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's this house I go to frequently that has this weird effect for writing for me. I have written vast amounts of this series and the other one I have yet to publish at this house. Well, I was there this Saturday finishing up this chapter, and my beta writer sits next to me.
> 
> Her: When is the next chapter getting published?  
> Me: Literally working on it right now.  
> Her: Are you fucking kidding me? Like right now?  
> Me: (passes my phone over) Gerard is watching them perform.  
> Her: Did you wait to write until you got here?  
> Me: Basically.
> 
> Like I said, that house is magic.


	5. Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from “Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy?” by Fall Out Boy

“I’m supposed to be there in like-!” Patrick gasped out as he looked over at the alarm clock on Gerard’s side of the bed. “Fifteen minutes!”

“We better finish up, huh?” Gerard asked with a snap of his hips.

Patrick whined as he started to move his hips back against his boyfriend’s thrusts. He liked how they got to switch it up. He wasn’t always catching, but neither did Gerard. It kept their sex life lively as if they weren’t young enough to have it exciting anyway. But honestly, topping required a lot of preparation and work from his side that he didn’t want to deal with and the last few days had been so hectic with all of the practices that he was so thankful when his boyfriend offered to pound him into the mattress.

“Ah fuck!” Patrick shouted at a particularly good sensation that ran directly to his cock that he hadn’t even touched yet. “Just lemme finish! Then I can go!”

“I could just stop,” Gerard offered and Patrick groaned in response.

Desperate to get where he needed, both physically and sexually, the teen made his thrusts more rigorous, more than what he was receiving anyway. The plan backfired as he started to inch closer and closer to the foot end of the bed, practically falling off. Only his head had floated off of the edge by the time he commented, “Shit! I’m getting off!”

“Hopefully,” the older man chuckled.

“Of the bed!” Patrick snapped back.

“Here,” Gerard said as he hoisted the teenager up to straddle his hips. “You can’t fall.”

The sudden change in pace gave the teenager a moment to check out his boyfriend’s face. “You okay? You there?”

“I’m getting there but not...” Gerard mumbled. The situation was hard to explain. The feeling as if his boyfriend wasn’t actually there inside his own body was somewhat troubling. Patrick secretly hoped an orgasm would pop metaphysical Gerard into actual Gerard, because if the older man could give him ones that made him feel like he was knocked out of his own skin, maybe a good enough orgasm could knock his boyfriend back into his. “Think I can get you to finish first?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to -“ the teenager started to protest.

“I’ll get there, but maybe when your body tightens up I’ll get _there_ ,” the older man explained, cutting his boyfriend off.

A nod was all he needed to convey his understanding. Getting to work at both of their impending orgasms as quick as he could, Patrick put an arm around Gerard’s shoulders to steady himself while he let his hips rise and fall to a new fast but steady rhythm while striking himself with his free hand. Somewhere in the back of Patrick’s mind, he thought that his boyfriend had put a lot of faith in him to finish them off like this; all the times his legs had gone out on him, wouldn’t work for a minute, or practically cooked like spaghetti noodles and left him limp like a rag doll were reason enough for this predicament he was in to not work.

Sure enough, when he came, his legs went out, his back arched, and both of his hands went to keep him steady on the bed. Gerard was the old rock waiting for the familiar wave to come crashing down on him again and he took hold of his boyfriend with both arms and rolled them both onto Patrick’s back and shot his hand down to keep the teenager’s cock from getting neglected. He kept the pace of his hand up the pace of his member moving in and out of the eager body beneath him before he finally tipped off, grabbing Patrick’s hip to plunge himself further into that right heat in the midst of his climax. He fell back into the disorganized covers with his boyfriend doing the same while inches away from him.

The two of them were both panting rapidly but as soon as he could muster out some words, Patrick had to test the situation, “Better?”

“Still foggy,” Gerard answered. The older man’s eyes fluttered open but focused on the ceiling overhead. Ever since the show at the Loop, Gerard had been in a constant fog. He could run on autopilot as the day before had proved since he could go to work no problem, but he didn’t feel like he was inhabiting his own body. It was like he was controlling a character in a first-person shooter game but he was the character.

The two of them were so disturbed by the way Gerard was feeling that they had collectively decided that the older man needed to take the rest of the week off. He had worked half a day to put everything in order for him to leave and sat in on a storyboard meeting just to leave the team prepared for him to be gone. Then he came home to Patrick who had little to no ideas on how to fix the problem but somehow they landed on fucking the grogginess out of him.

Patrick groaned in response. “Any other ideas? I don’t like you being like this.”

“Maybe a nap?” The older man suggested. “What if this is the detox along with overworking myself, lack of sleep and who knows what the fuck else?”

“Anxiety, poor diet, bad sleeping habits, drug abuse -“ the teen started to list everything but his boyfriend wasn’t very impressed.

“I get it,” Gerard grumbled and sat up to grab clothes.

“I’m just saying,” Patrick said as he pushed himself up to watch his boyfriend remove the used condom and then get dressed. “It could be worse but we also don’t know what it is. It could be a lot of things.”

“Well, let's start with a nap, ‘cuz I don’t want to miss tonight,” Gerard reminded him.

It was another gig but in Patrick’s mind, it was just _another_ gig. It wouldn’t be that hard to miss it but he understood why his boyfriend wanted to be there. “Hopefully there will be more shows. You can always go to the next one.”

“Wouldn’t make me your number one fan if I wasn’t there,” the older man said with a grin. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt to wear so he wouldn’t sleep naked and dressed before he looked over at his alarm clock. “Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?”

After finding his glasses that had been thrown somewhere on the floor during their make-out foreplay session, he snapped his head in the same direction. “Shit! Like ten minutes ago!”

“Pete’s gonna be pissed~!” Gerard teased him.

~~~~~

“Do you have any idea how pissed off I am?!” Pete started shouting at the brick walls. Patrick may have been late but that was the least of Pete’s concerns at the moment. “They should have given us more heads up than four hours before we needed to be there!”

“At least they didn’t kick us out,” Andy reminded the other heavily tattooed man. “The people running the venue were just telling us that the headliners changed and there will be a producer there to see the new headliners.”

“Four hours!!!” Pete screamed again. “This is not enough time!”

“What’s wrong with the songs we have?” Patrick asked once there was a break in the conversation.

“Shit could be better,” Pete answered, now pacing along the brick wall.

“Like how?!” The teenager sassed back.

“Like -“ Pete threw his arms up in disbelief that he couldn’t form a single example to help him at that moment. He took a second and then came back with, “We’re still calling the song ‘Sugar!’ It needs a better name!”

“How about we go back to my idea of ‘Sugar, We’re Going Down Swinging?’” Patrick grumbled.

Pete shot back with, “Because it’s so damn long!”

“Oh yeah!” Joe piped in. “But the full title of ‘Tell Mick’ isn’t a mouthful?!”

“It has to flow!” Pete argued.

“Then drop ‘Swinging.’ We could be practicing right now, guys!” Andy reminded everyone but the arguing between the three other men, well, two and a half since Joe was still a teenager, continued. At this rate, they were going to fill up the first hour of potential practice time arguing over how to fill the other three.

Despite all of the chaos going on, Patrick took a deep breath in and gently let it roll out of his lungs so he could fill them up again for the sake of a song. He played a few notes on the acoustic guitar he had in hand and closed his eyes to feel the rhythm. It was a strange sensation he would get that a lot of people wouldn’t understand, but sometimes, he could feel the strumming of the strings going through his fingers and up towards the rest of his body. When the whole world was spinning it was nice to have his body hum lightly against the current. It was very calming.

“Someday I’ll appreciate in value, get off my ass and call you, but in the meantime, I’ll sport my...” he started to sing to himself but he trailed off when he noticed the noise around him stopped.

He looked up at three pairs of eyes staring back at him. “What?”

“Want to put that song in?” Pete asked, bluntly.

“We’ve never played it together,” Patrick reminded him.

“We can fix that, like, right now,” Pete offered and motioned to the other two members of the band.

“I...” Patrick started to argue, but his friend had a point. However, they were running out of time. “We need a plan.”

“Idea?” Joe offered with his hand raised like a student asking the teacher permission to use the restroom. “We need to make a set list - a kick-ass setlist - and then we run through all of the songs a few time and make notes on each one. We all write down the setlist with the notes, keep it for the show. But that one song, we need to spend an hour on it. Minimum.”

“And put the set list on your instrument and put the notes in a different color,” Andy added in. “We can keep checking it with the notes and no one’ll get confused.”

“But not in highlighter!” Joe reminded him. “That shit doesn’t show up if the lights are dim.”

“That sounds amazing!” Pete finally looked positive for the first time in the last few hours. “We’re doing that! Right now!”

He spun out of the room on the heels of his feet, and the rest of the band watched him and then looked at each other for some kind of confirmation. When they didn’t have one, Joe had to ask, “Where are you going?”

“Paper and sharpies!” Pete announced from the other room.

“We’ve got a plan,” Patrick beamed and looked at his other bandmates. “I think we’ve got this in the bag.”

~~~~~

The High Watt hadn’t changed since Patrick had last been there. The only difference now was what side of the stage he was on. The band practiced for two and a half hours after spending no more than fifteen and a half (Andy timed it) minutes figuring out their set list. Once the set list was done, they each added in their notes, taped them to their appropriate instruments and packed them into Andy’s vehicle before heading over to the venue for the night.

The girl who gave Andy her number from the last show had graciously volunteered herself to be their merch girl since Gerard couldn’t be there for the very beginning, which gave all of the members of the band a job. Pete set himself on a mission to find the producer while Patrick and the other two put equipment on the stage and connected their instruments. Joe had sidetracked himself into networking with the other musicians backstage, leaving Patrick and Andy alone on the stage for the moment.

“You know we can do this,” Andy told the teenager.

“I know, I just...” Patrick sighed. All the nerves in his body had decided to express themselves that night. It left his hands shaking like leaves in a windstorm.

“Hey,” the heavily tattooed man demanded his attention. “We can do this.”

“Andy,” the teen groaned. “The producer isn’t here for us. Best case scenario, we put on a good show and we get some more fans.”

If that didn’t motivate Andy more, “No! Best case scenario, we get a deal. I love being indie, I love being small time, and we all know I love being part of the underground scene; but let’s face it, we can’t do this forever!”

“Yeah...” Patrick has been hit up with his first bill for repaying his student loans back. It was the harsh sucker punch from reality that he needed. Fall Out Boy needed to start bringing in some money; not just for the sake of Patrick paying off his student loan debt, but for the band to have a real actual album to sell at shows, for Andy to get a new drum kit, for Joe to get a better pedal, and for Pete to sleep on an actual bed and not the floor. They were barely into the band and he was worried they were in over their heads.

Suddenly, Patrick felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over at Andy crouched next to him. “I’m gonna play like this is my last performance ever. This’ll be the last show of my life and I want that final review to be a good one.”

“Metaphorically, right?” The teen asked, concerned for Andy’s well-being.

“Yes, but treat it like it’s your last show, no guarantee for a second chance,” the other guy repeated. “I believe in you, Patrick Stump. You just need to believe in yourself.”

The words echoed in his ears like an annoying ringtone.

“Fuck yeah.”

He treated this show as if it was his last. Something happened to lights so the overhead ones were on and that was it; no special lights or colored spotlights. It reminded him of a hospital room. It left him bare and open to the world, and that’s how he sang. His heart opened to the world and the strings of his guitar plucking quickly as his heart reached a marathon.

All of his nerves had left his body, but it, unfortunately, put his mind in autoplay. Before he knew it, Pete was announcing their last song; the one Patrick put into their setlist last minute.

“Alright you bunch of bitches,” Pete heckled the crowd. “We got one more song, but you ain’t done with us New Jersey! We’ll be around for a little while longer playing for you little fuckers.”

Pete looked at the crowd and then back at Patrick, with a face in need of reassurance. The teenager had a stone cold look of his own but at least gave a nod over to his friend and bandmate. It was least Patrick could do since Pete was doing all of the talking to the crowd.

Patrick noted the silence of the other band members, it added to the environment and put him even further into the role of being front and center, before he took a deep breath and started to sing, all alone on stage. “Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman.”

His eyes darted into the crowd, looking for one pale skinned, long dark haired man in the audience just there for him. There were few who were close but none of them was the man who sat on his couch and heard this song in its infancy. His heart was breaking with the power an earthquake but he pressed on.

“And maybe he won't find out what I know. You were the last good thing about this part of town.” Joe started just a smidge too early, before Patrick had gotten the word “town” out, and it made the singer grimace a foul face. They’d have to practice it a while more, obviously.

The band kicked up and the bar reacted perfectly. All it took was that guitar and the crowd were hooked. These were words that kids of an in-between generation could identify with and a beat that they could feel in their souls that only paled in comparison to the bass lines that brought them down to earth and kept them anchored like the symbols on their shirts.

While the irony was not lost on him at all, Patrick still spent the majority of the song looking out into the crowd for his boyfriend. Every time he belted out, “Where is your boy tonight,” he was struck in the heart with a dagger of his own demise. Maybe it would work in their favor, help with that deep and tortured artist aesthetic they were going for. It must have been noticed by his bandmates, because when Pete came up for backing vocals, Patrick made eye contact with the bassist and saw a very worried look on the other man’s face.

“Won't find out,” Patrick sang, projecting past the microphone. He looked over at Pete right then. It was like telepathy or some kind of twin language going on between the two of them on stage and no one else knew about it. It was like Patrick was telling his friend, “I don’t know where he is. I’m starting to worry.”

“He won't find out,” Pete backed up. The sympathetic look back connected the two of them. Pete’s telepathic response was something along the lines of, “I can tell you’re freaked out. We’re almost done.”

“Won't find out,” the singer repeated. His mind was telling him that he needed to leave. If his boyfriend wasn’t there by the end of their set, then it meant there was a reason. Patrick was terrified to find out the reason.

“He won't find out,” Pete sang the last part. He had this look in his eye like a man on a mission, and right then, his mission was to help Patrick get the fuck off of that stage, out of that bar, back onto the other side of town where the teenager’s boyfriend _hopefully_ , was.

Pete snapped his whole body out of the frozen statue-like position he had been in during his mental conversation with Patrick before stepping over to Andy. “We’re cutting it short,” he mouthed. Andy nodded like he understood what that meant and kept drumming along. So Pete moved on with a full-on twist of his body like a goddamn skateboarder on a halfpipe.

He got super close to Joe before the curly-haired teenager even noticed him. By this time, they were halfway through the second to last chorus. “End it after this one,” he said, low enough to not be heard by the audience but hopefully still over the sound of the instruments. Joe nodded his head, more forcefully than Andy did, which must have given Pete enough peace of mind to finish the last part of the last song of their set in the spot where he started.

Sure enough, Patrick finished the band off the same time everyone else had added some jamming notes with, “You were the last good thing about this part of town.”

Pete quickly snapped up to the mic, “Thank you, Kearny! Tip your server and stay for the next act!”

Patrick had already had his guitar unplugged and had put his foot on top of his pedal to remind himself to unplug that as well. The bassist was quickly by his side, “You did great! I know you’re worried, though.”

“I just don’t know where he is,” the teenager mumbled.

“Gerard ain’t here?” Joe piped up, overhearing part of the conversation.

“I haven’t seen him,” Patrick replied while pulling up and wrapping up chords.

“Here, lemme get this,” Joe offered with his guitar on his back still. He held his hands out for Patrick to hand over the chords, and the guitar, and the pedal, and god knows what else. “Go see if he’s here.”

“Joe, you can’t -“ he tried to argue.

“Go!” Joe snapped. “See if he’s here.”

Patrick nodded in understanding, grateful for the friends he had, and then spun off of the stage. His ears were still ringing and he was still shaking from the adrenaline rushing through him via stage performing but he was still running around the best he could.

He started with the bathroom, for some reason, only to find it with a line of guys who waited for his band to stop playing who now needed to pee. A few of them congratulated him, but after calling out his boyfriend’s name, he realized this was a dead end.

He then ran over the merch table. Andy’s new girlfriend, if she could be called that given the infancy of the relationship, was doing an amazing job at keeping down the fort. She tried to introduce him to a few of the newly inaugurated fans, but when he found that Gerard was neither at or behind the table, he quickly went to the next stop.

After the way things had gone at the last Fall Out Boy gig, Patrick was dreadfully afraid to find his boyfriend at the bar. What was worse, was not finding him there. The teenager used part of the bar to hoist himself up a smidge taller and canvas the rest of the room. Again, a lot of look-a-likes when it came to dark dressed pale guys with long hair, but none of them were his favorite Billy Corgan knockoff.

Enough time had passed that his bandmates had cleared the stage, put their equipment away in the truck, and were talking to a strange man on the other end of the bar counter. The guy looked generic enough with a thin face, peachy skin, and a plain black shirt with a long white sleeve underneath it. Patrick made his way over there, mostly to relay the news before his friends introduced the stranger. “Hey ‘Trick,” Pete announced while pulling the teenager into their circle. “This is Neal Avron. He was just telling us how he did that album for Yellowcard.”

Patrick froze.

The producer.

The band was talking to the producer. Patrick didn’t think they were going to get the chance to even be seen by this guy, let alone get to talk to him!

“You look like you worked up quite the sweat up on that stage,” Neal said with a light chuckle.

“Yeah,” Patrick sighed, hands on his hips as he put on his best fake face. “I try to give a good show every time.”

Andy and Pete started to dominate the conversation with the producer, which gave Joe the opportunity to check in on his friend, “Did you find him?”

“No,” the shorter teen groaned. “I’m really worried. He hasn’t been alright lately. I think the drugs are finally taking a toll on him.”

“You don’t think...?” Joe asked before he realized what he was going to say and Patrick realized it at the same time.

Maybe Gerard wasn’t there because he doing drugs again. Or worse; maybe he wasn’t there because the drugs finally got to him, as in fatally. But the way his life had worked out, he was waiting to formulate the worst idea in his mind and then have one of the best outcomes happen right before him; as if he would convince himself that his boyfriend would be dead and then the man would walk up behind him in that same moment with two cherry cokes and a cheeky grin.

Neal continued talking and talking while Patrick kept surveying the floor. He still couldn't find Gerard and it was worrying him to no end. "Hey guys," he announced to his bandmates. "I think I need to go home."

"Wait - what?" Pete's head snapped over when he caught what Patrick had said. "Man do you not see what's going on?!"

Sure Neal was an amazing producer that they had an opportunity to work with but he had somewhere he had to be. "Mr. Avron, I would love to talk to you with the rest of Fall Out Boy over the possibility of making an album with you, but," Patrick started to apologize. "My boyfriend is a recovering addict who said he would be here and he's not responding to my texts. I need to go home and see that's he's okay."

Neal nodded at him, like he understood, before telling him and solidifying what Patrick had thought, “Absolutely take care of that. I've seen too many good people fall into addiction."

"Thank you," the young man said with his hands up as if he was praying. He would be forever grateful if he was able to come back to this offer despite having to leave. "Joe and Andy are just as capable of telling you about the music and Pete and I wrote all of the songs we played tonight as a team. Again, I am so sorry."

"Please, go," Neal reassured him. "I've got it. Your band mates will be fine."

"Thank you," he repeated and then looked up at his fellow band mates to say it to them as well. "Thanks, guys."

“Here,” Andy said as he pulled the teenager aside and passed his keys over. “Take the truck. Merch girl will help us out. And maybe her friend... or we’ll do trips.”

“No,” Patrick disagreed and pushed them back over to the drummer. “I’m gonna call for a cab. You guys still need to get home.”

"Keep us in the loop," Joe added in with a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Absolutely," Patrick promised and rushed out of the place. Knowing that his friends would take care of everything, he knew he could worry about one thing and one thing alone: Gerard.

~~~~~

It was like the car couldn't drive fast enough. As soon as the taxi pulled up into one of the spots and saw Gerard's car sitting two spots away, but still where it was when he had left earlier that night. Hopefully, that meant Gerard was still there.

Everything from the paying the taxi driver with the money from the tip jar in the parking lot to running up the stairs was a blur as he was frantically racing to get into their apartment, quietly hoping that Gerard would still be there and - heaven forbid - still be alive. He even dropped the keys to get in before he got to the door. The second he was in the living room, he shouted out, "Gerard?!"

There wasn't a response. Patrick's voice was shaking. His hands were trembling. This couldn't be happening. But he tried again as he slammed the door and started checking around the living room. "Gerard?"

There was a faint rustle coming from the bedroom and his heart sank. Hopefully, that meant he his boyfriend was still alive but it didn't say anything about the state that Gerard could be found in. But he could only hope for something that could be fixed. So Patrick rushed and threw the door open.

The older man didn't look good but he was at least alive. Gerard was drenched in a hot sweat and the blankets weren't giving him any relief. Patrick was shaking him hard, trying to wake him up, but it wasn't working in the slightest. "Gee, please," he begged the almost lifeless body in bed. His voice was cracking even more as he started to cry. "Please... please I can't."

Gerard groaned a bit before barely opening his eyes. It took a minute for him to register what he was looking at was his boyfriend. "Hey 'Trick," he whispered. "You're gonna be late for your gig. I'll catch... I'll catch you there later."

"Oh Gee," Patrick sobbed. It didn't make sense, but at least his boyfriend was alive. "Oh, baby. I just got back. You've been passed out the whole time."

"Oh baby," the older man tried apologizing before slipping back to sleep. This was miserable, for both parties, but Gerard was a wreck. The teenager pulled his boyfriend up from the blankets just to cradle the sick man in a loving hold. There had to be a way to fix this. Just something to help them. If only to get through the night.

The idea came to him gradually, especially since he didn't think he could do at their apartment, but Patrick started to piece together how he was going to make it work just to help Gerard detox for the night. The plan started to work out in his head, the pieces and parts starting to come together like pieces of a puzzle. He kissed the older man's head before laying him down on the bed gently; honestly, Gerard wasn't going to go anywhere.

Patrick pulled his shirt off, and then his binder into the laundry basket before putting his shirt back on; he didn’t want it to get in the way in case he got so exhausted he’d pass out. He rushed over to the bathroom, turned the shower onto the hottest setting, and then closed the shower curtain.

The next step was getting Gerard into the bathroom. He didn’t know he was going to do that initially, but at least the bathroom would steam up in the process. His first thought was just to pull the older man out of bed, but Patrick was far too weak on his own to do that. He tried to pull Gerard out from under his arms, which only got the older man to flutter his eyes open for a moment.

“Baby...?”

“Can you sit up, Gee?” Patrick asked with a breaking voice. For a moment, the teenager thought he could lie about his intentions, “We gotta go.”

“Oh...” the older man sighed and rolled over, slightly rolling out of the bed before his boyfriend caught him. “Oh... okay.”

“It’s okay,” the teen lied. “You’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”

Patrick took hold of Gerard the best he could and then started to back the two of them up into the bathroom. Step by step, he was practically dragging the taller man into the other room until his own feet felt the linoleum. Then, in a terribly clumsy manner, Patrick had the older man lean atop of the toilet in a hunch so he could go grab the other things he needed. He needed the towels in the linen closet, and the blanket off of the bed; except when he opened the door to grab the towels, he found something else.

The old Star Wars blanket.

He rested his hand on it for a moment before pinching the fabric between his fingers. His eyes started to glass up as he was overwhelmed with the thoughts from the last time he got to use the same blanket. “You’re right, Gee,” he said to himself. “It is comfy.”

With the Star Wars comforter and two towels in hand, Patrick rushed back to the bathroom to find Gerard still slumped over the toilet, only now, he was muttering to himself. The teenager made note of how the mirror above the sink was steamed over; maybe, just maybe, his homemade sauna would work out. The bathroom door was shut and the towels were rolled into tubes before they were shoved into the crack of the door and the floor. Patrick needed all of the hot air he could get.

“Hey baby?” the teenager beckoned his lover. “Come here.”

Gerard had opened his eyes just a bit to see who was talking to him before he pushed his weight up enough to unintentionally crash into Patrick. The teenager couldn’t do much as catch as his boyfriend as much as he just guided the fall carefully into his own body before wrapping the two of them up with the beloved blanket.

Patrick pulled the seemingly lifeless body closer to him and brought Gerard’s head on his chest. He looked down if only for a second and he could see some pink being restored to Gerard’s cheeks. The small teenager pulled his lover’s body closer to him if there was any space between them left. “We’re gonna make it through tonight,” Patrick whispered his promise. “If we can make it through this, we can do anything.”

~~~~~

Gerard woke up the next morning in his bed, with what he could loosely describe as the, “cleanest hangover he had ever had.” His whole body was sweaty, but not in exercise or super hot room kinda of sweaty, but rather like he had his face over a pot of rice while it was cooking, but all over his body. Initially, he wanted to get up to figure out how he had gotten in such a state, but all it took was a glance at the other side of the bed.

Patrick.

The older man couldn’t remember exactly how the chain of events had happened but he remembered Patrick being there all last night. He remembered the sex from the day before. He remembered Patrick leaving for the show right before Gerard decided to take a nap. Then he remembered Patrick waking him up...

And then the bathroom.

And the shower.

And then his old Star Wars comforter.

Gerard looked down to see his old blanket pooling around his body while he was examining his surroundings and trying to remember his night from before.

It wasn’t a dream.

The older man crawled over to his boyfriend’s sleeping body from his side of the bed and hugged the teenager until he felt Patrick’s body jump awake.

“Gee...?” Patrick mumbled.

“I love you,” He squeaked out as his voice started to falter.

“Oh baby,” the teenager replied before turning over to see his boyfriend’s face. The two of them must have been quite the sight; Gerard was already started to bawl his eyes out from the overabundance of pure emotions that he was feeling all at once while Patrick was still wrecked from the exhaustion of overworking himself the night before.

“You...” Gerard started to say but he hiccuped in the middle of his tears. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Baby,” Patrick sighed with a smile on his face, barely there since he was still tired, but it was there. “It’s gonna take a lot to get rid of me. You’re stuck with me.”

Just like the night before, Gerard crashed into Patrick’s arms, this time fully conscious, just in need of some physical contact. And Patrick let out a long sigh of relief as he wrapped an arm around the older man’s back and stroked the mess of raven hair that was buried in his shoulder.

“I’m here baby,” the teenager sighed again. “I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legitimately have no idea how drug detoxification works. This chapter is literally me winging it. There has been a lot of Google searches to make this chapter possible. I will put in here that there's a reference to Champion that didn't exist until I got my copy of Mania (in the bathroom sauna scene) and Patrick saying that he's here (the very last line of the chapter) is to answer the question in Grand Theft Autumn, "Where is your boy tonight?"
> 
> Additionally, I’d also like to point out that the Fall Out Boy timeline is not going to match up with the real-life history of the band. It’s more evident in the future chapters when Soul Punk Patrick (2011) and Party Poison Gerard (2010-2012) exist at the same time in 2010.
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> I know it sounds dumb, but I’m going to start adding little tidbits about my life in the description of these. I caught myself rereading the entirety of both installments that were published, and I figured I’d give a gift to the future version of me that’ll be reading this soon. I’ll also add things about the story for people who are interested, so I’ll block off the notes-to-self sections. Just like the change of setting I do in the story. 
> 
> Back in August, I got the Demolition Lovers tattooed on my feet (purposely just like Patrick’s sharpie tattoos) but the original artist did such a bad job that they didn’t look like the album cover where they are spending their last moment alive with one another in anguish; they looked more like a couple on a date that were only slightly annoyed that the waiter spilled spaghetti on them. I got them touched up last Saturday and I legitimately cried when I saw the male figure’s face fixed. I’m finally proud to show off my feet tattoos. The artist was also super impressed that I brought the album on disk (for higher resolution) and on record (for the size) so he could see exactly how it was supposed to look. 
> 
> I’ll be doing Warped Tour in Dallas this year with one of best friends. He is an ex so I’m hoping it’s not awkward, but I still love him to pieces; just not in a romantic way, unfortunately.


	6. Gun it while I'm holding on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Hang 'em High" by My Chemical Romance

Gerard was attached to Patrick like a puppy home for the first time since it came out of the pound. He was still feeling groggy and terrible since that night, but he was starting to feel like himself for the first time in forever, and he had Patrick to thank for it. Hell, he was still convinced somewhere in his mind that he probably wouldn’t have made through that night alive had Patrick not intervened.

“What do you have planned for today?” Gerard asked while burying his nose in the teenager’s shoulder blades. It was morning, not too early where it was riding on the coattails of the night before, but just early enough that the older man could take his time and not be late for work.

“I still need to see the guys in person since my texts are only doing half the job,” Patrick answered into the pillow.

Since the gig had come to some an abrupt halt, Patrick and the other members of Fall Out Boy were texting one another about the events that happened after the teenager left. From both sides. Patrick told everyone that his boyfriend hadn’t died, how it was a hard night for the two of them, and how Gerard was making a nice recovery. The guys had all responded greatly in their own way and then informed the singer that they had made an impression on Neal, who was also deeply enamored over the fact that Patrick had put his boyfriend first after he had heard how great of an improvement Gerard had made just overnight. There wasn’t word on how exactly it was going to happen, but Neal put his number in every one of their phones so he could keep in touch for a future collaboration.

“You want to come to work with me?” the older man offered.

“Go to work?” Patrick questioned.

“Yeah.”

“With you?”

“Yep.”

“To Cartoon Network?”

“That’s the place!”

“Gee,” Patrick groaned. “Is it appropriate to bring your boyfriend to work?”

“Joe brings his girlfriend all the time, then again, she works in the accounting office,” the older man admitted about his coworker.

“No, Gerard,” the teenager sighed. “Is it appropriate to bring your _boyfriend_ to work?”

“Oh!” He was so caught up in his own euphoria, Gerard momentarily forgot that homophobia existed. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not sure if I’d be allowed,” Patrick added. “Or if you’d have consequences for work... like if you’d lose your job. It’s 2003, not 2030. Maybe they won’t discriminate against gay folk at work by then.”

“Maybe we could legally marry in New Jersey by 2010,” Gerard sassed back. The older man then pulled himself off of his boyfriend and then out of the bed to start getting his clothes. Still too early for him to go to work, but he had a trick or two hidden in his sleeve to convince ‘Trick to come with him. Even if it meant getting his boyfriend to cum for him.

“Seven years, Gee,” the teen groaned. “Seven years could change a lot politically. But you know, the seasons may change but people don’t. There’s still going to be bigots who don’t want us together, let alone want people like me to exist.”

“Fuck them though. I’m taking you to work today though; if Joe can bring his girlfriend into work, I should be able to bring you,” the older man protested while putting pants on.

Patrick started grumbling and pulled the sheets further over his body. “That means I have to get up.”

“I’ll make it worthwhile,” Gerard offered and it got Patrick’s eyes to peer over the comforter enough before the teenager pulled the covers completely off of his torso.

“What are you thinking?”

“What can I do for you to convince you to come with me?” He placed his hands on the bed so he could lean in, close to Patrick’s face, and grin one of those shit eating grins that could only be viewed one way.

Patrick, however, was shutting that down fast, “Buy me lunch. I’m being fueled by ramen and I’m sick and tired of eating cold deli meats.”

“I’ve offered to buy breakfast foods,” Gerard explained as he pushed himself off of the bed. Regardless of how his plan was going to play out, he should probably get dressed to go to work before doing anything to ease his lover out of bed.

“Pancakes aren’t food, they’re just carbs that you put next to your protein to fill you up,” Patrick grumbled and flipped the blankets off of him to get out of bed.

“That by definition is food, ‘Trick,” the older man laughed as his boyfriend walked past him towards the bathroom.

“Whatever, just let me pee and I can get ready,” the teenager announced and shut the bathroom door. Gerard just shook his head at the way his boyfriend was acting. Sometimes he had to remind himself that he was dating a teenager, but at least he was still _dating_ that teenager.

Until it hit him that he met Patrick last July, and it was almost summer. “Hey, Patrick?! I got a dumb question.”

“It’s only dumb if you make it,” the teen replied through the door.

“You’ve had a birthday, right?”

“Yeah, twenty of them.”

“When the hell was that?” Gerard was right. Still practically a teenager, but Patrick was a year older from when they first met back in the Haunted Grounds open mic night.

“Back in April.”

“Okay, what day?! I feel like a shitty boyfriend!”

“Well...” He bears the sound of the toilet flushing, water running in the sink, then the towel on the back of the door being used before the bathroom door opened. It was obviously a sensitive topic if the look on Patrick’s face has anything to say about it. “It wasn’t exactly great.”

“We weren’t together then but I can still feel shitty about it,” Gerard commented, arms crossed while he leaned on the panel of the archway that leads the bathroom away from the bedroom.

“Hey, I caused a scene at the bar on yours, so don’t feel bad... but um... after the bar I went to Justin’s for awhile and then he dumped me one night and kind of left the guys to pick up the pieces,” Patrick admitted while scratching his bed head.

“What the fuck?! What kind of asshole-“

“No,” the younger one interrupted. “I was in a bad place and he recognized that he wasn’t helping the situation. I had the guys. They fixed as much as they could. But that morning, Andy realized it was my birthday and I asked them to just leave it be.”

“Oh my god,” Gerard sighed. “That’s terrible.”

“Pete had already gone on this huge ass rant about making a band and we all jumped on it and got distracted, so,” Patrick added before putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “It wasn’t too bad. Plus that next weekend was your art show. I got to see you again.”

“Which means your birthday is...?” The older man trailed off as he tried to do the math.

“The 27th.”

“Of April?”

“Yep.”

“So will you let me take you out today as a late birthday present?” Gerard offered.

“Oh god, is that seriously why you asked?” Patrick laughed and walked past his boyfriend to get back onto the bed. He didn’t get into it like he was going back to sleep but he belly flops onto the mattress.

“No, I seriously felt like a bad boyfriend,” the older man admitted. “I’m still going back to that whole 'wanting to be the best boyfriend I can' thing.”

Patrick rolled over, sat up to sit with crisscrossed legs, and smiled from sideburn to sideburn. “You mean that?”

“Of course.” Gerard closed the gap between them and place his arms on both sides of his boyfriend’s legs and leaned in for a kiss. The younger man took both of his hands to cradle Gerard’s face so he could deepen the kiss before it was broken for one sultry offer, “I’ll go down on you if you want. Even if you don’t want to go to work with me.”

Patrick scoffed, “I’m not really in the mood to reciprocate if you get me.”

“That’s fine, I’ll still do it,” Gerard said and started to take his kisses over to Patrick’s ear.

“Really?” Patrick asked when his boyfriend’s lips went to his neck, thankfully the older man wasn’t biting him or leaving marks but simply leaving little pecks as Gerard made his way further down the younger man’s body.

“Yeah,” the dark-haired man mumbled against the skin of Patrick’s stomach as he pushed the unnecessary fabric of the nightshirt out of the way.

“Like... really?”

“Really, really.” With that, Gerard pulled down the younger man’s pants and boxers in one swift movement before putting his mouth on the mound of flesh before him. Patrick arched his back into it with his boyfriend working wonders on his cock. Never entering him, but working every piece of him was that available. The older man pulled his boyfriend up by his legs, causing a yelp to come out of Patrick’s mouth, and gave himself more accessible to the young man’s lower half. Testing out the waters, as he had this done to him only once in his lifetime, he took his tongue from the bottom edge of Patrick’s ass crack and slowly dragged it up into the small twitching length before taking the entirety of Patrick’s dick into his mouth.

He rose when Patrick rose his hips. He dove down when the shorter man crashed back into the bed. Gerard was so desperate to keep them in sync and not let up on the task at hand... mouth.

Patrick, however, had a different idea going through his head. “Do I need to go back to shaving if you’re gonna do this? If this - ah! - if this is gonna become a regular thing, I can keep it smooth.”

“Nah,” Gerard popped up, with a literal pop, and then used his hand to stroke the member he was following his cheeks out for. “Just like back when we were dating, we’re both guys, we might as well look like it you know?”

“But mmmmmmm,” the younger man tried to get out before a certain sensation rendered him speechless. “You’re the only one seeing this part of me.”

“Yeah, I know,” the older man replied and then went back down and used his tongue to move Patrick’s cock like a light switch. He heard an ‘oh fuck,’ felt the thighs by his head cave in around him and then felt his hair being grabbed on for dead life. If his mouth wasn’t full, he’d smirk. Gerard was damn good at this.

With no warning at all, Patrick’s hip shot up, causing the older man to anchor him down to the bed before the smaller body twisted in a jerking motion. A very loud, “Oh fuck!” admitted from the younger man’s lips before he jerked over to his side and fell back down onto the mattress. “Oh, shit...”

“Good?” Gerard was slightly shocked it didn’t that long. He was fully ready to spend the next ten or so minutes to get his boyfriend to cum.

“Yep!”

“That was fast.”

“Well, that was good,” Patrick chuckled. He sat up on his elbows and watched Gerard stand up on his own. “It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah...” the older man trailed off. “I was expecting that to be longer. No complaints from me.”

“Better not!” the younger man jested.

"There's nothing to complain about!" Gerard laughed. When he finally stopped laughing, he smiled so greatly that it took up most of his face. He loved this boy. He was almost jumping out of his skin to ask, "Do you want to go to work with me?"

 "You're asking? Even after you did that for me?"

"Of course," the older man agreed. "I'd never do anything to make you do something you didn't want to. At least, not like that."

"Then yes," Patrick breathed out. "Let's go be the gay couple at your work."

~~~~~

New York seemed close on paper, but in reality, it was a car ride to the train station, train ride into the city, a walk to the subway, subway ride to the other side of the city, and then a taxi ride to the building.

“Doesn’t this get expensive?” Patrick asked, and Gerard guessed that the younger man was doing the math in his head.

“Still cheaper than living in the city,” his boyfriend responded as he led the two of them into his work office.

It was massive from the inside, but even then, there were still only certain areas that could be accessed by someone who worked on the shows. Gerard showed his laminated badge to the assistant in the front lobby and then signed Patrick in. The whole time the older man was being briefed on where the teenager was allowed to go, Patrick was mesmerized by all of the wall art and advertisements for shows currently being worked on by Cartoon Network. And artwork from past animators or character designers sealed in frames that were now on the walls. And statues of the characters that were the most popular at the time. And sandwich signs featuring the characters while giving directions throughout the building. 

It could be an awe-inspiring experience.

Patrick followed Gerard around the workspaces like a baby duckling to its mama. He took a back seat when the storyboard meeting took place; giggling every time Gerard would do the voice of the title character. He was introduced to the rest of the crew, storyboard writers and animators alike, so he could put a face to the names. Then assignments were handed out, which artist would do what parts and how they were supposed to look by the end of the day, and Patrick held onto Gerard and his "cube mate's" memos.

The cubicles at Cartoon Network weren't like office cubicles; they were small rooms that could tightly fit the workspaces of two artists a piece that lined up the sides of one long hallway like caverns or tunnels in a hive. They were little holes, most of which had little to no light, but still looked comfy from the view of an artist. This cube, in particular, had a framed rendering from the original pilot, done by Gerard and his-creator of course, and several sketches and notes thumbtacked above each work desk.

"And this," Gerard introduced his work mate. "Is Joe Boyle. He came up with the idea of a superhero with food powers and called me up. Together, we made the Breakfast Monkey."

"It wasn't that cool," the other man commented. He looked like those Lodi, New Jersey punks who worshipped the Misfits, just without all of the makeup and the multiple articles of clothing that could be used as weapons. No one would second guess if the man looked like a back up member of the punk band on the weekend, but his work attire was more or less, was similar to Gerard's; goth mall rat boots, oversized black mohair sweater, and a pair of skinny jeans that couldn't have been from the men's department. He dressed like the kind of man Gerard thought he was, but wasn't confident enough to dress like.

"Still," the older man sighed. "Joe, this is Patrick, my boyfriend."

"Ah! He has a name!" the vampire wannabe stood up to shake the young man's hand. "Well, it is nice to meet you!"

"Thanks! I didn't know he was talking about me," Patrick commented, centering in on one part of Joe's comment.

"Not a lot," Joe admitted, much to Gerard's relief. "I don't know anything incriminating, at least."

“Speaking of, we’re gonna have to find a nickname for you man,” Gerard told his coworker. “Patrick’s in this group with his three best friends and one of them is named Joe.”

Patrick smiled. Gerard recognized that those were his best friends and that must have meant the world to him, of course, it was going to make the young man happy.

 "Is he an artist, too? Can we just go back to me being Artist Joe?"

 "Yeah, that'll work," the older man agreed. "I hate for you to be called that if you don't -"

"That's what my girlfriend calls me to her mother," newly-named Artist Joe admitted. "I'm not the first Joe she's dated. At least I'm the one her mother has liked the most."

"Lovely," Gerard grumbled. He had made small comments from time to time with coworkers he felt like he could trust that he had dated guys in the past, but bringing one to work with him was a whole new step. It was such a relief that there wasn't an issue being made of it; at least not yet. He made the mental note that it was still a possibility for him to be fired for being in an open relationship with another man.

A sudden buzzing noise went around the small room and all eyes went onto the source of the noise; Patrick's phone in his pant pocket. "Oh shit!" the young man exclaimed as he pulled the item out of his pocket and then caught that he was standing in the middle of an art factory for children's cartoons. "I mean 'shoot!" 

"We all fucking cuss here," Joe told him. "It helps us get through the day."

"Go answer it," Gerard told his boyfriend. "I know you need to catch up with the guys."

"Okay, thanks!" Patrick quickly replied before flipping his phone open and rushing out into the hall. "Hey! I'm here."

"He's adorable," Joe mentioned when he was left alone with his coworker. "I can see why you like him so much."

"Thanks," the older man told him and then asked his own questions, "Does it bug you that I brought him?"

"No, why? Did someone say something?"

"No... I'm just worried about bringing a date to work."

"My girlfriend visits me all the time."

"She works here. And she's a _woman_."

"Oh!" Artist said in amazement, realizing everything. "I don't think you'll have an issue. We have openly gay producers."

"Really?" Gerard asked, wondering who it was.

"Ellington, the woman with the Snoopy broaches," his coworker pointed out. "Married her wife in Canada like three years ago. There's just not a lot of workers down in the hive who are out. You could change that."

"I don't know if that's a good -" he started to protest, but then he heard Patrick shout in excitement. Gerard turned to stand in the doorway and watch his boyfriend carry on the phone conversation while walking throughout the hallway. 

“We got what?!” Patrick shouted excitedly into his phone.

Gerard’s heart sank for a moment. It was total deja vu from back to when he got the phone call from Joe Boyle that the Breakfast Monkey had been picked up. Just from the other side of the door. He was now in the metaphorical shoes that Patrick was in about a year ago.

But it all turned around very quickly.

In a positive direction.

Patrick looked over at him, realizing that he was now being watched, and mouthed what Gerard assumed was, “Warned War.” He just sat there, super concerned that it was something terrible before he heard Patrick talking to his bandmate. “What dates do we have? Are we doing the full tour or just a portion?!”

“We have a tour,” Gerard repeated what he thought his boyfriend said initially.

“Patrick has a tour?” Joe asked as he popped up next to his coworker. “What does he do, the convention circuit?”

“No, no, no,” the older man sighed, now completely ignoring his boyfriend’s phone conversation. “He’s a musician, not an artist like us.”

“Oh, okay,” Joe said and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket. “I’m gonna grab lunch, you want anything?”

“No, I’m good,” Gerard waved his coworker off. “I’m gonna treat Patrick to lunch out of the building.”

“Oooh,” the taller man whistled. “Lucky guy. You two have fun.”

Artist Joe went his way out of the cove and toward the elevator which gave Gerard the opportunity to lean on the doorway of his artist hideaway to listen to his boyfriend’s conversation. Patrick was ecstatic, pacing back and forth between the soda machine and the bathroom doors. It was a joy to watch.

“Yes, yes! Tell Neal yes! Even if it’s not him we can make an album with this other guy! If Neal approves of him, then we will too!” The conversation went on for awhile. Patrick just lit up and carried on and on, occasionally looking over at the older man with a shit-eating grin before going back to his phone call. “So yes! We can do the tour and then record... the other way around, whatever!”

Gerard smiled back at his boyfriend, seeing the little man so excited was making him feel the same just from all of the joy second hand. When the phone call finally ended and an over exhilarated Patrick started to come his way, the older man inquired, “You guys got a tour?”

“Oh god, I thought you heard me,” Patrick almost yelped, simply out of enthusiasm. “Warped Tour! We got Warped Tour!”

If his jaw actually could have hit the floor, Gerard would have broken something. Possibly the floor. Warped Tour was the opportunity of a lifetime! “You guys got Warped?!”

“Fall Out Boy is going to Warped!” Patrick shouted while jumping up and down and then eventually into his boyfriend’s open arms.

“You guys don’t even have an album yet and you got Warped Tour?!” Gerard was starting to ride the same high Patrick was on. He was excited about how lucky the teenager and the rest of the band were.

“No! We’re gonna go to Chicago,” the younger man started to explain, and as the list of opportunities got longer, the older man started to worry about how long he was gonna be away from his boyfriend. “And we’re gonna get signed by Island - that’s the company who Neal Avron sent our demo to - and then we’re gonna record an album with all those songs we already have but we're gonna make a single to put out while we're on tour and then the band gets to go to Warped Tour! Oh my god, Gee! I can’t believe this is happening!”

The last time a good opportunity happened while the two of them were dating that involved them having to be apart, the parted ways for good... or up until they got back together, but still, the two of them broke up. Gerard would be damned if all of those terrible demonic voices and inner thoughts would come back. This was the beginning of their future together and he was going to be the best damn supportive boyfriend that punk music had ever seen!

“I’m so proud of you, Patrick,” Gerard happily sighed before the two of them locked lips and tangled their arms around one on another. His boyfriend broke the kiss and put his nose into the older man’s neck, still not letting up on his grip around his boyfriend’s torso. With that, Gerard started rocking them back and forth on his feet, like he always did. “You earned this. You’re gonna be fucking amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as you all can tell, Patrick's gotten into Warped Tour, and this chapter was rushed for the sole purpose for me to work on the Warped Tour chapters. I went to the Dallas stop this year, which I am currently typing this up in a hotel while recovering from it. I actually wore a, "I ♡ BINGO" hat in honor of Patrick and the lead singer of Bowling for Soup told me, "I love bingo, who doesn't love bingo?"
> 
> In fact, because I physically went this year, it helped me write the next few chapters from the experiences I had specifically. I typically don't publish a chapter until I'm done with the following one (like I won't post chapter 2 until I'm done writing and editing chapter 3), but there's gonna be a delay here because I'm skipping seven until I'm done with the Warped Chapters because its so fresh in my mind.


	7. And through it all, we'll find some other way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Desert Song" by My Chemical Romance  
> (my favorite song of theirs ever, by the way)

It was a nineteen-hour drive that was being broken up into two days. There wasn’t even a plan to stay at a hotel for the night; the four guys had pinpointed a truck stop from their trip to New Jersey that had a rest area they could collectively nap at in their way back to Chicago. Patrick would be taking a few shifts to drive, so Gerard couldn’t even text him to stay busy if he wanted to unless they really planned it out. The luckiest chance he could get for the two to talk while they were apart would have to be once the band got to the city. They were going to leave directly from the band apartment, so Gerard had agreed to meet them there before going to work, just so all of the members of Fall Out Boy could be in the same place before departure. It wasn’t so bad, but the older man had gotten used to sleeping in his bed with someone there. Even though Patrick was just a few blocks away, it set the tone for how the next few weeks, if not months, were possibly going to go.

It was so early that the sun hadn’t even risen yet, but the boys were all busy with packing up the truck. There had been some talk about trading the truck in for a when they got to Chicago, and it would use up a shit ton more money than the band was prepared to pay, but it made sense for them to have one; however, Warped Tour would provide a bus for them, so the plans should need to stay on hold until they came back. Until then, it was just four guys, all of the equipment, and one mid-sized truck heading to Chicago.

“Oh god, he’s coming our way,” Joe smarted off when he saw a darkly dressed person in the dead of night walking towards them. It was obvious that it was Gerard but it didn’t stop the jokes.

“Cute, so I’m not sending Joe anything when you guys go on tour now,” the older man commented and it earned him a laugh out of the group, minus Joe. The last bag, filled with pedals and chords, was placed into the back seat by Patrick before Pete closed the truck bed cover and gave the couple some privacy. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Gee,” Patrick replied back with a weak smile.

“Can’t wait to hear about everything, so text me details while you’re gone,” Gerard offered. “You’re gonna be great.”

“Thanks, baby,” the shorter man said before turning the conversation around. “I love that you’re being super supportive, but I need to talk about you for a minute.”

If that wasn’t code for something bad, then Gerard was missing all the signs. “Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing wrong,” his boyfriend replied and placed on each of Gerard’s shoulders. “It’s about your sobriety.”

“What do you mean?” The older man questioned.

“I want you to understand,” Patrick explained with his hands gripping tightly at Gerard’s shoulders. “This isn’t because I don’t trust you. It’s never going to be about trust. These demons are stronger than you are and I had to be by your side the whole time you were fighting. But I can’t fight alongside you right now.”

“That’s very reassuring,” the older man sighed, knowing that it meant that his boyfriend called for backup. “Who all knows?”

Patrick took a step back to count them all out on his fingers. “I told Frank because he’s not on tour and lives nearby. Same with Ray. Mikey’s got class most of the time so he’s pretty far down on the list, but I’ve got also Artist Joe in case something happens at your work. But he’s for work time only.”

“Okay.” Gerard was admittedly glad his parents weren’t on the list. He didn’t know if he could handle that.

“I also told Lindsey but because she’s in New York and her work schedules are crazy, so she’s the last resort.” Patrick let his arms rest down on his sides. “They’ve all agreed to do shifts to check on you while you’re not at work. I’m sorry I did it behind your back, but this was a thing that I knew would be better for me to beg for forgiveness instead of asking you first.”

“I get it,” Gerard grumbled and then used his ring finger to rid of eyes of morning gunk. “You can tell me next time, I promise I won’t get mad... but you probably didn’t know how’d I react.”

“That’s why I did it this way,” Patrick sighed and hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” the older man caught his boyfriend’s attention and pulled the young man’s head up by his chin. “I really don’t blame you. I still don’t want to think what I’d be like without you.”

Probably dead is what he thought, but he wasn’t telling Patrick that.

“I love you so much,” the young man said, now beaming. “It would take me to count ways.”

They hadn’t said it in so long, but Gerard didn’t miss a beat. “I love more than words can describe.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Patrick added while pushing himself onto his toes to kiss his boyfriend’s lips.

“Absolutely.” The two of them hugged like it was the last time they would see each other, ever, before the young man departed to stand with his bandmates. Gerard looked over at them, realizing that this was still part of their experience as well. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity for all four of them. “You guys are gonna fucking rock this. Stay badasses.”

Pete laughed loud enough that everyone on the block should have heard him. “Thanks, man!”

One by one, they started to pile into the truck; Andy was driving so he gave a Gerard a half-assed high five on the way to the driver’s s seat, while Pete made time for a “totally not gay” safe side hug, and Patrick got one last kiss. Joe, on the other hand, received a handshake from the older man before Gerard told his boyfriend’s best friend, at a low tone into the younger man's ear, “Take care of him for me.”

“Absolutely,” the curly haired man replied. He was the last one to hop in, so once the door was closed, the truck had started up and the lights beamed through the night. Gerard tapped the door where Patrick sat as if he was giving the truck permission to leave, but Andy drove off right then anyway. Joe turned to his friend in the seat next to him, and asked, “He doesn’t know about us, does he?”

Patrick sighed, loudly. Yes, the two of them had gotten over the fact that Joe told the other two band members about their sexual past, but it was still a sore spot. The first cut is always the deepest but old wounds wouldn’t heal if were repetitively being reopened. “No. If I have anything to say about it, he never will.”

~~~~

The band had arrived safely, from what the texts told him, but there was no way he could talk to his boyfriend. He had a head cold from hell that had set in overnight. Had Gerard not taken all that time off earlier for his sobriety to be established, he could have taken a sick day. Now, he was sicker than he was on the last days he called out sick and regretted doing it. The voiceover booth technician had shut it down for the day just because Gerard made the Breakfast Monkey sound more like a PSA to stop smoking. At that point, there wasn’t anything left to do, so he had decided to go home.

After he hit a drugstore.

Walgreens was one of his favorites since it had so much stuff in one place. He got a frozen pizza for the night and some cold medicine. Then his phone started chirping when he was in line and he realized he needed to change his plans. It was Frank’s night to babysit him. Mikey had done a good enough job for the past two nights, but when Gerard realized his brother was there to avoid Gabe, he insisted someone else take a turn. Somewhere in his mind, he thought about getting a different kind of meal so that his vegetarian friend had something to eat. Gerard looked up to see only one person standing in line in front of him, but noted the four behind him, so he mentally flipped Frank the bird and decided to keep his dinner choice.

Even though he had texted his friend the plan when he got to his car, he ended up at his apartment well before Frank did. Which in his mind was perfect, now he could change his from his work clothes into his novelty Batman pajamas, preheat the oven, and get some NyQuil into his system. It ended up working out for two of the three things he wanted to do as his door was being knocked on while he was putting the pizza in the oven. As soon as he had freed his hands, he went over to the front door and let his friend in. “Sorry for the short notice. I know it sucks to watch over me.”

“I think you mean, ‘Thanks for being here,’” Frank joked as he stepped inside. He made note of the striped Vans sweater his friend had on, not because of the brand, but because it was almost the summer and the short man was wearing a fucking hoodie. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Hard not to sometimes,” Gerard said with a loud sniffle.

“You sick?” the short tattooed man noted while hanging up his jacket on the arm of the couch. “Is that why you didn’t want Mikey?”

“I didn’t want Mikey here because he broke up with Gabe,” the older man admitted. “He was avoiding the guy since they’re still in the same dorm. Apparently, Gabe’s leaving soon anyway, so my brother thought he could wait for this shit to phase out.”

“Gah,” Frank exclaimed. “I didn’t know it was that bad. No wonder you wanted someone else.”

“This isn’t awkward for you is it?” Gerard asked. “Watching me like a little kid?”

“I’m not watching you like a little kid,” Frank argued. “I’m watching you as a concerned friend who worries about you hurting yourself. That’s what we’re all doing.”

It made it a little easier, but he still thought of himself as the child in the situation. Nothing was really going to change that.

“Well, I’m making pizza if you want some. I can pick the pepperoni off when it’s done being baked,” Gerard said as he walked into the kitchen. As he got closer to the oven he saw the abandoned medicine he was working on until the oven had beeped at him the first time. He started pouring the purple medicine into the little cup when his friend followed him in there.

“Yeah sure, I can do that,” Frank said and then noticed what his sick friend was doing. “The fuck is that?”

Gerard already the plastic cup up to his lips when Frank asked him, so he gave off a very muffled reply of, “Cold medicine.” The shorter man didn’t even wait for another possibility to play out before he smacked the cup of Gerard’s hand. Had the older man been of a more conscious mind, he would have had a better reaction besides, “Wha...?” at the purple medicine covering his kitchen counter and floor.

“You’re not taking that shit!” Frank argued. “That gets used for meth and other shit and people get high off of it alone!”

“And it gets used to help colds,” Gerard said flatly.

“I don’t care,” his friend continued arguing. “Don’t fucking do this shit! You’re not going back there!”

“Okay-okay!” the older man accepted it. “I’ll stay sick. I didn’t think about it.”

“I get... I’m sorry,” Frank apologized. He took his head into his hands and wiped his face clean with his fingers dragging his skin down. “I know what it can do, man. Like... drug-wise. Addiction-wise. We don’t want you like that again.”

“I know,” the older man admitted, not really understanding what was going on around him. The whole being sick factor was putting his brain on a delay, so all he could understand at the moment was that he couldn’t take the NyQuil. “What do I need to take?”

“I don’t know... Emergen-C?”

“I don’t have any of that...”

“Maybe, I can get you some in the morning.”

“And I’ll just... I think I have juice. I’ll drink that tonight.”

The pizza had finished their conversation with a loud beep. And then another. And another before Gerard had turned it off and pulled it out of the oven with his oven mitts back on. He had to cut it and then pull the pepperonis off of one side and then let it set for it become an edible temperature, but all he could do was stare at it like it would all magically do it on its own. Thankfully, Frank was an amazing mind reader and pushed his way through and got an oven mitt from the older man before snatching up the pizza cutter from the utensil drawer and finishing up the job.

“This is gonna be a rough night, isn’t it?” Gerard asked with a pitiful sniffle.

“Only if you let it,” Frank said with confidence as he finished the last of slicing the pizza, cutting them in squares instead of triangles which slightly irked Gerard just out of principle, and then searched through the cabinets for plates. “We’re gonna make this night our bitch.”

“Deal.”

They resorted to watching Adult Swim on the couch with their food and feet on the coffee table. Frank pulled the cheese off of his pizza after admitting he could taste the meat in the cheese. Gerard drank glass after glass of Sunny D he had in his fridge because of the high amount of vitamin C in it. They kept bitching about the content of shows on the channel at the moment, how much they despised the Brak Show, and how they missed the Ren and Stimpy show.

“Is the Sunny D helping?” Frank asked with a mouthful of pizza crust.

“'Bout as good as it’s gonna get,” Gerard grumbled. The upgraded version of Tang wasn’t a good substitute for medicine. He was going to have to go back to a pharmacy and find something that wasn’t a potential over-the-counter addiction drug.

“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” The young man teased with a kissy face getting closer to the dark haired man before Gerard grimaced and pulled away.

“Jesus, no.”

“Cmon, I can’t be that bad!”

“No, just... no.” Gerard was having flashbacks to that one night he had in Frank’s apartment. Where the younger man got the two of them drunk off of a poorly planned Star Wars drinking game and then started talking about their current sex lives. Just the thought of revisiting the memories from that night left him pinching the bridge of his nose in disgust.

“You okay?” Frank leaned in to see how Gerard was doing but the older man dropped his hand to reveal a perfectly normal face, minus the cold symptoms.

“Yeah... I just... remember when we talked about that little boy toy I had, the one I would spank and junk?”

“Yeah...”

“And then you opened up about your sex life?”

“Yeah, Gerard are you okay?”

It wasn’t easy, but he felt like he had to come clean. “I kind of had some... interesting mental images of you that night - but I snapped back to reality quickly, don’t worry - so I don’t really want to joke about being affectionate or sexual with you.”

“You had some dirty thoughts about... what I do? I didn’t think you knew what I was doing,” the tattooed man confessed. “I tried to be vague. I didn’t think it would bug you so much. I’m sorry man.”

“No, I meant like...” He wanted to get all of these feelings off of his chest, just to air out the weirdness of the whole situation, but that was easier said than done. “I was picturing you in the scenario I had. With that fuck buddy of mine. As a little boy. But with you.”

“Oh!” Frank’s eyes lit up in shock. “I didn’t... know that.”

“It was probably just the alcohol and drugs talking... or I’m just blaming the booze while in reality, I’m a creepy ass, old man.”

“You’re not even old, stop shitting on yourself like that all the time, man.”

“You’re not weirded out by that?” Gerard asked, almost in shock on his own. “Nothing about that freaked you out?”

“Dude, you really wanna know what I do out there?” The younger one made a vague gesture towards the wall that really implied the outside world, but it was somewhat understandable since all Gerard managed was a weak nod in agreement, accompanied by a wince. “Once a month, I go to a diner in Patterson. Patterson, of all fucking places. There I meet people of similar interests, and sometimes after we all hang out in the back room of that little diner, we go to someone’s house and we play around. I never do anything I don’t want to, it’s all safe and perfectly sane.”

“... but like... I had very specific images in my mind when you said you were...” Submissive wasn’t a curse word but he found himself trying not to say it. It wasn’t a slur either, but it was almost like when Patrick came out to him and he felt like he couldn’t say the word “trans” to describe his boyfriend.

“I get blindfolded, pushed against a wall and beaten with various instruments of torture. My personal favorite is a ruler with a metal edge, but that’s probably the good Catholic schoolboy in me coming out in the worst of ways,” Frank admitted, ever so casually.

“Oh my god,” Gerard gasped. He personally looked like the kind of guy who would wear a Hot Topic type of bondage pants, but he never thought that anyone would actually be into that kind of actual bondage on their own. “Doesn’t that leave marks? Or cuts? Or scars?”

Frank pulled the hoodie he was wearing up from his stomach by the hem to reveal the suction cup marks on his chest. Then he took the hoodie off entirely, along with his shirt, to show the various thin red and pink slices going across his back. Then was the rope marks up his arms, making a ladder shape down each of his forearms. Whoever did this to him took their time. “I love my layers, but I don’t want to be wearing this much when it’s so fucking hot.”

“Holy shit,” Gerard gasped again, looking in awe of all of the various markings across his friend's body that were highlighted by the young man’s pale skin and only really showed up in the spaces between tattoos. “Are you like a party game? Do people take turns with you?”

“I used to be one of a few male subs for this one woman, but now I’m her only one,” the young man continued on and started to put his clothes back on. “We’re kind of dating now," he admitted with the final layer being pulled on tightly.

“Holy shit...”

“Yeah, that’s why it doesn’t weird me out that you fantasized about me,” Frank said with a shrug. “You’re not the only man who has told me that. It's kind of flattering at this point."

“I just... you used to joke about never wanting to be in a gay relationship and now you have no problem with this kind of stuff,” Gerard almost laughed.

“Yeah, well...” The young man shrugged again, now fully clothed. “People change. Like you. You’re gonna change for the better too, man.”

“You think?” Gerard had to ask, not really understanding that his friend was trying to change the subject.

“You have a support system of people who are going to make this better for you,” Frank explained. “It might not be easy, but at least we’re here for you.”

That brought a small smile to his face, and then another fucking sniffle because this hell of a cold was only getting worse. “Thanks.”

Later on that night, they had decided to cash out with Gerard on the couch and Frank laying on the floor. Frank was laying on the pillows from Gerard’s side of the bed so Gerard could have the ones from Patrick’s side. It wasn’t the same as his boyfriend right there, but it still smelled like the musician was sleeping next to him as opposed to seven hundred miles away. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell his friend this, at all. But like little school girls at a slumber party, Gerard couldn't sleep so he decided his friend wasn’t allowed either. “So what’s her name?”

“Who?” Frank asked towards the dark ceiling.

“The woman that you said beats you,” the older man explained.

“She does more than just beats me, it’s more psychological than you think,” the young man tried to explain, as if answering the question was too hard. "It's like therapy, man."

“Well, whatever,” the dark-haired man scoffed. “Your girlfriend then.”

“Not my girlfriend. We’re just...” Frank ran his hands through his dual colored hair while he tried to find the words. “Casual. Not official. Kind of dating.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jamia. Her name is Jamia.”

“Will I get to meet her one day?”

“Maybe.”

“Should I talk about how you guys met or what you guys do?”

“Never in a million years or I will rip your balls off.”

~~~~~

Texting back and forth was great, but it only really told Gerard that his boyfriend was alive, having a good time, and was being kept busy.

Very busy.

The group had recorded several songs over the course of a week, three of which were being cut. Patrick fought very hard, including actual fighting with Pete, over one song in particular. There was one that wasn’t going to be in the album unless they could find another singer to duet with Patrick, and not a lot of musicians in Chicago wanted to collaborate with a bunch of newbies. Because of that one song, in particular, the album had been on hold until Warped Tour was over. Apparently, several bands had gone through the tour without a record to sell; so as long as the band had a name and a way for people to look them up, they were marketable.

Gerard had gotten over his head cold, finally, and was able to do his voice work again. He sent a line or two to Patrick over the next few days in text form just to earn an, "lol" or even a, ":D" if he was lucky. He didn't want to worry his boyfriend too much, so he refrained from saying anything about his sobriety, the Nyquil incident, or anything bad that had happened in New Jersey. He wanted to call his boyfriend so bad but he wanted to respect the work environment Patrick was in; so he had to wait for an invitation.

The first phone call from Chicago was extremely unexpected. Especially when it was preceded by a text from Patrick going, “I need to get off if you can help me. Can I call you?”

“Where are you?” Gerard asked while pulling his pajama pants and underwear down in one swift motion. He was sitting in their bed, all alone in the apartment for the first time since Patrick left. Mikey was going to be back on babysitting duty later that day, but for now, Gerard was little brother free until Mikey got out of class.

“In a Wendy’s bathroom,” Patrick admitted.

The older man purred at the idea. “Holy shit, this is a whole new level of dirty.”

“At least I locked the door.”

“You sitting on the floor?”

“God, no!” Patrick gasped. “It’s disgusting!”

“Sit on the toilet then,” the older man offered.

“Hell no, that thing is worse!” Patrick spat out.

“We both know your legs won’t keep you up,” he told his boyfriend in a giggle.

“Shut up, I’ll be alright,” was the response he earned.

“I like that we’re okay with this,” Gerard laughed. “I mean... some couples would have a no masturbating rule while apart but here we are.”

“Yeah...” Patrick groaned. “Like... Joe’s got his laptop and a bunch of porn DVDs.”

“Oh!” He didn't see that coming from Joe, but then again, Fall Out Boy was composed of four guys in their prime years; someone was going to have porn.

“I mean... it’s all straight porn but I’ve been stealing it a couple times just when I need a visual.”

“Shit...” All of the great images of Patrick with a hand in his boxers filled his mind and only made him harder. He had been making loose strokes at that moment with full intention that he was gonna make this phone sex experience last. “I need a visual. What are you wearing?”

“A... uh... Northstar shirt.” Not sexy at all. But at least he knew what Patrick looked like at the moment.

“What else...?”

“Uhhhh... khakis?”

“That sounds hideous,” Gerard remarked snarking.

“Well it’s coming off so shut up,” Patrick spat out. The older man could hear the sound of clothes coming off, and then the sound of his boyfriend making low moans from the back of his throat.

That gave Gerard the motivation to speed his hand up. “God already? What are you doing?”

“I’ve got my pants down, and I’m stroking myself,” the younger man explained, making enough noise in the background for Gerard to know his boyfriend was telling the truth.

“Mmmmm... tell me how you do it,” the older man purred.

“Like with my thumb and my index finger-“ Patrick started to explain but he obviously didn’t want to make this a one-sided experience. “Hey wait! No! I want a visual! What are you wearing?!”

“Uh...” His pants were already on the floor with his underwear around his ankle. “Clothes...”

“Like?”

“Just a shirt, my Misfits shirt,” Gerard explained.

“Where are you?” Patrick groaned.

“In bed...”

“Doing what?”

“Stroking myself.”

“Do you want to give orders or me?”

“Orders?”

“I like it when one of us in control,” Patrick explained. “I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re telling me what to do, but when I’ve got you... it’s one thing I can control when I’m being pushed around from place to place.” The recording must have been terrible. No free time. Doing whatever the label wanted them to do. Running from place to place in Chicago.

“You want to tell me what to do? Would it make you feel better?”

“Baby, I just need to cum... oh god...”

He needed to take control, if only for a little while to help Patrick get through what was left of their recording session until they went on tour. “How far down are your pants?”

He heard a gasp, a little mumbling, and then a feeble, “Around my knees.”

Gerard tightened the grip around the base of his dick and his phone. He needed to last a bit longer. He just needed to hold steady a little while longer until Patrick started to fall apart. “Push them further. Expose yourself a little bit more.”

“Oh god,” he could hear his boyfriend groan, clothes being moved, and the sound of skin on skin.

That’s not what he had ordered the younger man to do, however. “I didn’t say you could fuck your hand.”

“Oh, fuck me!” Patrick gasped in frustration.

“I’d love to, but you’re a thousand miles away,” Gerard replied and he heard his boyfriend groan again. He giggled a bit to himself, slowing down his own loose tugs on his dick, and then continued to give out orders. “Do it. Stroke yourself. Hard.”

He could hear Patrick panting, an increased intensity of the slapping sound, and his boyfriend lowly saying his name over again. It was hypnotic. Gerard lodged his phone in between his shoulder and his face so he could use both hands to pleasure himself to the soundtrack of his lover so close to completion. He moaned at the sounds of Patrick’s beautiful noises were making sweet music into his ears.

“Hmmm...” Patrick hummed. “I need you. I really miss you.”

It hadn’t even been a full week since the band left for Chicago, but it left Gerard pretty lonely. He wasn’t heartbroken, because Patrick was going to come back, but he missed the young man deeply in a way he hadn’t in so long. During the breakup, he missed his old boyfriend like a far-off fantasy, and now it was just a reality at just a little out of reach. It was a good thing going on that took Patrick to Chicago, so all Gerard could do was be the best damn boyfriend he could. Even at a long distance. “Miss you too... you close?”

“No, I’m in Chicago,” Patrick giggled.

“Smart ass.”

“Cute ass.”

“I’m not cute. I’m handsome.”

“Sure.”

“But really, are you close?” Gerard asked cupping his own balls and squeezing them to make him moan loudly, right into the phone.

“Sounds like you are,” the young man commented.

Maybe, but he was gonna lie. “Not really.”

“Liar,” Patrick remarked back with a hitch in his breath. “Cuz I am... And I know you.”

“Yeah...” he purred, feeling that tiny dominant side of him coming up in the surface again. “I know you, too. Your fucking hips. That fucking face you make. Those fucking noises.” That earned a moan out of his boyfriend, and Gerard got the mental image of Patrick gasping with his pants around his ankles and his hands between his legs. “And those fucking lips when you moan. God, I love it when you moan; it’s like my own private concert.”

Then there was a sudden, “Oh shit!” the sound of a phone dropping onto a tiled floor, and Patrick making short, loud, groans and moans that sounded far away. Gerard licked his lips; he got Patrick to cum so hard that the young man dropped his phone. He was good at this. So good, he needed to move onto his side to keep his phone in place as he groaned into the earpiece during his own orgasm. He sped up his pace just to reach his own personal finish line, exclaiming loudly as his navel and fingers were striped white from line after line of his cum. He had his teeth ground down while breathing harshly between them as he could hear Patrick doing something that sounded somewhat the same. "How was that? A good show for you?"

"Fucking amazing," Gerard groaned out. He was still stroking himself until he gone completely soft in his hands. "How do you feel?"

"Good... but like," Patrick grimaced. "Gross at the same time."

The older man chuckled, weakly since he was still catching his breath. "Well, you're in a public restroom. What did you expect?"

"I expect that I'm going to Purell the fuck out of my ass and clothes when I get back to the hotel," his boyfriend laughed right back.

"Hotel?" Gerard hadn't heard anything so far of a hotel. This was different. He cleaned himself up a bit, dragging his soiled fingers against the blankets to clean them, tucking himself back into his underwear and pants, and then pulling his bottoms up while sitting upright to give Patrick his undivided attention, despite being nine hundred miles away and on the phone. "What's going on?"

"We're gonna leave," Patrick replied as if his boyfriend knew the answer and knew why they were going to be in a hotel that night. "We're leaving for Warped Tour straight from Chicago."

"Oh!" It's not that he hadn't thought of that possibility, but he really was hoping for the chance to see Patrick between recording and the tour. "That's... that's awesome."

"You don't sound too happy," his boyfriend pointed out.

"No, it's great," Gerard lied.

"Talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind." Patrick had said it plenty of times before, always showing that Gerard could open up if he needed to and that he was in a safe enough place to do so, but it had been a blue moon since he had last said it. 

Gerard almost forgot how easy it was to open up after hearing those words. "I wanted to see you before you came back from Warped. Just a little bummed."

There was a pause, deadly silent, almost irking pause, followed by the sound of clothes being pulled on and a belt buckle being put into place. Then the phone being picked up from off of the floor, and then Patrick offered up a solution, "Look up the dates on the site. Or the Myspace page even."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly proud that I managed to do two chapters in the same month. If this is not proof that my meds are working then I don't know what it is.
> 
> ~~
> 
> Going to see Fall Out Boy for the third time this September. Super excited. I'm working on a back patch for a jacket. It's going to be a perfume bottle turned molotov cocktail with the label "eau de résistance."


	8. So progress report: I am missing you to death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me" by Fall Out Boy (because of irony).

“We got a bus! We got a bus!” Pete was practically dancing around it.

 

“Yeah,” Andy announced behind him, a gym bag filled with clothes in hand. “We knew that.”

 

“I know but...” Pete pressed his face against the side of the bus. “I wasn’t expecting this.” It was a full-sized bus. Like they had seen from the tours before, but now it had one full-sized Pete Wentz pressed up against it like it was a flipping teddy bear at a carnival.

 

“I kind of expected a van,” Patrick admitted as he came up to it. “Like when Jawbreaker when that big tour with Nirvana and they were the only ones in a van.”

 

“And like-“ Joe intervened. “They were the only ones not in a full tour bus?!”

 

Patrick sighed once he saw Joe doing the same thing Pete was; he was going to be stuck in this bus with these guys. The mental images of all of the dumb shit they were going to do hit him and made his head hurt. At the same time, if he was going to be stuck on a bus with three other guys for the span of a month and a half, this was the three he’d pick. “Yeah... that was my fear.”

 

“We don’t have a crew,” Andy noted. “We’ll be packing up our own stuff.”

 

“That’s fine,” the young man remarked, still trying not to look at Pete and Joe who now humping the bus. Patrick mentally changed the order of bandmates he’d take with him so that Andy was his first pick. “What about a driver though? I’m not driving this behemoth.”

 

“Should be here,” the heavily tattooed man said with a shrug. “Who knows? I can totally do it if we need to.”

 

“No, you wouldn’t.”

 

“If we needed to.”

 

“We’d die.”

 

“I’m not that bad of a driver.”

 

“We’d _die_.”

 

The two of them laughed between themselves while the other half of the band was still jacking around. This was gonna be a long month, but it was gonna be fucking amazing.

 

~~~~~

 

The first stop for Fall Out Boy was Minneapolis. Had there been more time to jack around, they all would have gone sightseeing for a minute but Warped Tour was in full force around them. People going from booth to booth to stage to stage flooded the grounds like a tidal wave. The band would be playing on a smaller stage closer to the afternoon with their meet and greet at their booth immediately following their performance so it gave the Chicago Crew plenty of time to jack around.

 

Joe didn’t have a whole lot of tattoos yet but he had enough that he stood out along with Pete and Andy. Anyone walking around would recognize them as musicians and stopped them at every place they were at. Patrick, on the other hand, with his baby face and empty skin looked enough like the teenagers who were attending that he wasn’t bothered at all while exploring the area. He spent a little bit of the cash he brought with him on pavilion food, an overpriced pretzel, and found a good spot to watch a band perform without being part of the crowd. Hopefully, the vendors selling already assembled battle vests wouldn’t care about his hobbit-like person leaning against their tent.

 

He liked the lead singer.

 

Boy did he like the lead singer.

 

He couldn’t see a name of the band performing because the backdrop clearly was the Vans logo along with the year, but he could make out the singer’s features. This mystery man was a bit of a stocky guy; short with a bit of muscle that was shown off by his muscle tee and shorts. The long black hair that barely touched his shoulders didn’t stand out but the bright red streaks on just one side of his head certainly did. Complete with a bright red bat on his shirt and a single fingerless skeleton glove, this man was something out of a Misfits concert. Even the singer’s mannerisms were kind of like Gerard’s. It was great to watch.

 

But it made Patrick a little homesick.

 

He was absentmindedly picking the salt off of his pretzel by the time the song was over. Sure, the set wasn’t over but he kept standing there he was gonna spend his whole time staring at a guy who vaguely looked like his boyfriend while he had other shit to do. Patrick weaved in and out of the tents, looking at the things for sale and bands trying to get more fans while slowly eating the rest of his pretzel; it was gonna be his breakfast since he didn’t think to bring food with him on this trip. He got near the Epitaph booth with only half of his breakfast left, leaving his other hand free to flip through the CDs, when he heard a familiar voice.

 

“Patrick?” The young man froze. He knew that voice from anywhere but he didn’t expect to hear it in Minneapolis. “Patrick, is that you?” He heard his name again and this time he looked up to see a man, slightly taller than himself, in a beige plaid shirt, with hair that stuck up in every direction.

 

He took a gulp, trying to swallow his fears along with a bite of his pretzel and addressed his ex-boyfriend. “Hey, Justin.”

 

“What...?” Obviously, it was a bit of a shock on both parties. He wasn’t expecting to see anyone he knew here, let alone Justin Pierre. After thinking about it for a minute, Patrick remembered the night he was dumped where Justin even admitted that he didn’t want to bring the young man with him to Warped Tour. Of course, he’d fucking see Motion City Soundtrack at fucking Warped Tour. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I uh...” Patrick tried to gather his thoughts up. He didn’t know what to start with. ‘I’m the lead singer of a band that’s on tour here,’ or, ‘I promise I’m not here to get you back.’

 

“Are you following me...?” Justin asked while getting closer and closer into Patrick’s personal space bubble.

 

“I uh... I promise I’m the lead singer of a band to not try and get you back,” he jumbled his two sentences together and mentally slapped himself in the face.

 

“You’re...? You’re what now?”

 

Yep. Totally screwed up that whole interaction.

 

“I’m...” the young man started to say but then he saw the tent for Fueled by Ramen records new artists, which included his own band. “I’m the lead singer of a band. We’re signed with Ramen for our demo -“ he pointed over to the tent as if their merchandise was prominently displayed over any other band and as if the tent was close enough to point out their hyper rushed demo that sat on the table “- we don’t even have the first album out yet.”

 

Justin looked back while spinning on his heels, still in a daze, before turning back, “But why are you here?”

 

“It’s Warped Tour, they like to put out new artists,” Patrick pointed out, matter-a-factly as if he hadn’t already explained it. “Me and the guys put a band together and things picked up pretty quickly, we really weren’t expecting to be here too quickly.”

 

“Yeah!” Justin exclaimed. “That’s... good for you man. What’s the band?”

 

“Fall Out Boy.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah. Fall Out Boy.”

 

“Damn...” Justin spun back on his heels to look at The Fueled by Ramen tent one last time before looking back at Patrick as if that was a good enough answer to justify him being there. “I’ve heard your shit already. You’re amazing... Sorry for snapping your head off. I just wasn’t expecting to see you here, let alone to have heard you already, you know? What else have you been up to?”

 

“I mean... I really didn’t expect to see you either. Band or no band.” Patrick had done a lot of things since they last saw each other, just most of them were things he didn’t want to talk about with the exception of his band. “I dropped out of school to do this full time. The other guys did too.”

 

“So it’s just you and the Chicago guys?”

 

“Yeah, just the four of us,” he admitted. He has a busy last few months, just the thought of it was pretty humorous when he started to look back. “We had to pick parts for a drum kit from pawn shops all over Hoboken to find one for Andy though.”

 

“You’re in Hoboken now?”

 

Ah shit. He said a magic word that kept him linked to New Jersey.

 

“Yeah...”

 

“You ended up going back with him, didn’t you?” Justin seemed to connect the dots faster than Patrick was expected.

 

“Yeah,” the young man admitted and went back to picking at his pretzel. “Sorry.”

 

Justin shook his head with a slight chuckle. “Don’t be. I saw it coming from miles away. I’m glad you two are back together. It just worked. You know what I mean?”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied with a smile.

 

“Is he doing okay?”

 

“He’s... Gerard’s getting better,” he replied, not talking about what his boyfriend was recovering from.

 

“He’s not here?” Justin looked around like Gerard would spontaneously appear out of nowhere.

 

“He’s busy with work,” Patrick added. “He might be here for the Jersey shows.”

 

“Be nice to see him again,” the crazy-haired man said. “And you too. It’s nice to see you again. If you ever need anything, I’ll be here. We’re kind of here 'til the end, ya know?”

 

“Yeah, I get it,” Patrick agreed and smiled. It was a sweet sentiment even if Justin wasn’t that capable of helping him anything. This was the ex-boyfriend he dated, got super drunk with, and wrote crappy love songs with. Oh _yeah_ , crappy love songs. “Actually... there is something you could do for me. Remember that song we wrote together?”

 

~~~~~

 

The jacket went into the back of the trailer. It was shoved deep into the corner underneath as much equipment as Ray could manage. Hell, he’d put Gerard in the back if he could. They both smelled like cheese. It was a hard odor to get used to, and Ray wasn’t going to tolerate it, but he was late enough for his conference as it was. It was no secret; when Patrick wasn’t around, Gerard didn’t take care of himself and everyone knew it. From miles away if he had that fucking leather jacket on.

 

“Are you aware that it’s the fucking summer?” Ray snapped once they were back on the turnpike.

 

“It’s a look, Ray,” Gerard argued. “I need to maintain my looks.”

 

“It’s hot as hell.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“The pavement, not your dumb ass.”

 

It was the middle of the summer, Gerard had to agree, but he’d be damned if he didn’t wear the fuck out of that jacket when he got the chance. He grumbled into his palm that rested against his face as he pouted in the passenger seat, “How far are we?”

 

“Maybe half an hour left,” Ray replied like a mother pissed off that her children can’t behave in the car while on a road trip. “We’re gonna go to a record store first on our way to the hotel. The guy who owns it is also gonna be at the seminar, so I told him I’d meet him at his shop first.”

 

“Do they just sell records?”

 

“They probably sell CDs too, dumb ass.”

 

“No, I meant like...” Haunted Grounds was a bookstore that sold comics and CDs and records and nerdy crap. Sometimes stores advertised one thing and then sold a butt ton of other stuff to appease a larger audience. “Like back home.”

 

“Maybe, we’ll see in like thirty minutes.”

 

Thirty minutes was a lie.

 

Not Ray’s fault though.

 

They managed to get stuck in near-standstill traffic on the turnpike because of an accident and then got stuck in morning rush hour traffic as they entered the city. The whole time Gerard was complaining about needing to go to the bathroom and Ray argued him that they were close enough to the store that they didn’t need to stop at any gas station or fast food joint for a pit stop.

 

By the time they got there, it had been an hour and fifteen minutes bare minimum since Ray had originally promised it would only take thirty. He didn’t even have the car shut off by the time Gerard was popping out of the passenger side and trying to get to the door. The taller man followed suit to the entrance until Gerard spun on his heels to head back towards the trailer.

 

“I need my jacket,” he announced before Ray put a hand on his chest and pushed him closer to the door.

 

“The fuck you do! It’ll stay there until we get back to North Jersey!” Ray continue pressing on the stocky man’s chest until eventually, they ended up in the building, Gerard groaning the whole time.

 

The interior wasn’t as decorated as his favorite spot back home, but he could see why Ray would be so into it; Bare minimum so the owner could fit as much merchandise into it as humanly possible: A few posters on the wall, but they were each framed, ridiculously in overly ornate frames, the KISS action figures were sitting in a glass display case, but every single one of them had a price tag. Ray was already introducing himself to the cashier in hopes of finding the owner while Gerard beelined for the bathroom as soon as he found it. Of course the bathroom was being used for storage, so he didn’t have a lot of space to do his business but at least the toilet didn’t have a stack of records blocking it; like Gerard and Justin both were guilty of doing back at Haunted Grounds when they ran out of space for other shit.

 

He was in and out as quickly as possible, hand washing included (twice because that bathroom freaked him out) before he popped out to hear his friend go, “No we can wait a minute.” He tried to groan too audibly, but he still got Ray’s attention as the owner of the place walked away. “We won’t be here that long man. Calm down.”

 

“Whatever,” was all Gerard replied as he started to make his way around the perimeter of the room, looking at the DVDs and CDs alike until he found something he liked, picking up copies of things he wanted with full intention of purchasing. And then he turned the corner where the few releases in Alternative were set up at the end of the aisle. He took a quick glance before he got an instant case of whiplash when he saw a very specific cover. Fall Out Boy was in large blue letters at the top and as if it was a mistake, Gerard did a double take between all of the members to see if it was his boyfriend and the band. “Oh my god! Ray! RAY!” Gerard started shouting for his friend’s attention.

 

“Jesus Christ,” the other man cursed and walked over to the dark haired man’s spot in the store. “What the hell?”

 

He didn’t really wait for his friend to figure it out before he had one of the CD cases in his hand and then Ray’s face. “Look! It’s Fall Out Boy! Patrick’s on the cover! He did it!”

 

The curly haired man took the album in his hands and looked down at it, noticing the members of the band through a blue filter. “Damn. That was fast.”

 

“We’re buying it!” He said as if there was an option, or as if it was even up for debate.

 

“One copy,” Ray replied while looking for his wallet, but his friend was too wired up.

 

“Nope! You’re getting one! I’m getting two!”

 

“What do you need two for?”

 

“One for me, one for Patrick.”

 

~~~~~

 

There was a campfire going for the bands and crew to enjoy. Patrick managed to find someone passing out marshmallows as a joke but once he found a stick from a tree to use, this was his idea of a late night snack. After fucking around with the fire, the stick, and the kamikaze marshmallows for a while, Joe found him and took a seat next to him, ignoring all the other nonsense going around them. “No chocolate or graham crackers?”

 

“Gah, I wish!” Patrick exclaimed as he tried to bring the marshmallow back towards him without I dropping or being totally burnt.

 

“So Pete just told me his little friend from college is coming to visit us,” Joe changed the subject very quickly.

 

“Oh god,” the shorter man groaned. Pete’s little friend was a slight friend with benefits situation he had back when the group was just getting out of school. The other guy had recently broken up and just wanted something casual and Pete was red to experiment with someone so he could keep saying he was, “Gay above the waist.”

 

“I know... think he’s dropping out of school again?” Joe asked, trying to make heads or tails out of the idea of this other guy showing up.

 

“I hope not,” Patrick mentioned as he blew out the flame on his snack. Just the right amount of toasty and melty. “Mikey should just be taking a break for the summer if he doesn’t fuck up.”

 

“We can only hope,” the taller of the two noted. “I really don’t want him coming here to be all over Pete’s dick and fuck up his school life you know?”

 

“Pete’s dick isn’t worth it,” Patrick commented before stuffing the marshmallow in his mouth.

 

“Have you seen it?” Joe laughed.

 

Patrick almost choked on his snack like a bad case scenario of playing Chubby Bunny. Once he wasn’t choking on it, he snapped back with his mouth full, “Fuck no! I mean Pete in general.”

 

Joe chuckled to himself a bit as he leaned back, stretching his back out. He must have noticed the same band walking across the common area as Patrick did but he had the opportunity to point it out first, “Speaking of Mikey, have you talked to any of the guys from The Used yet?”

 

“How is that ‘speaking of Mikey?’” Patrick asked but was greeted with Joe pointing out the lead singer.

 

“Dude reminds me of your boyfriend,” the taller one commented before he stopped pointing. “Every time I’ve seen him, I thought your man had shown up to the show.”

 

“Not till we hit Jersey.” Patrick didn’t know the name of the band up until that point but he knew who Joe was talking about. That mystery singer he was staring at earlier in the tour; clearly, he and his friend were thinking the same thing. He may have known the name of the band now, but the lead singer’s name was still a mystery.

 

Joe brought him back to reality with, “You miss him?”

 

“Yeah.” Of course, he did; what kind of a question was that?! But if he had to be honest, “But sometimes I get so busy and distracted by everything going around us that I forget about anything outside of the tour. Is that bad?”

 

“So long as you don’t forget who you’re going home to, I think you’re fine,” his friend laughed.

 

“We’ll be there soon,” Patrick sighed. “This is going faster than I thought.”

 

“For sure.”

 

They sat in silence, enjoying one another’s company with the occasional break as Patrick would try not to burn another marshmallow and Joe would try to guide him through it as if they both weren’t twenty, or almost in Joe’s case, and done this plenty of times. Eventually, they both got bored with the situation, and the shorter man ran out of his snack and started to head their own ways. Joe was going to mingle with some of the other musicians while Patrick was calling it a night.

 

There was an awkward wave between him and the guitarist from Yellowcard as the two of them were heading towards their buses, and then an even more awkward double take from Jesse from Motion City when they made eye contact. Jesse didn’t even approach him; he just simply had a look in his eye of a mental revelation, “Oh shit, that’s right! You’re here! Someone told me that!” and then went onto his bus after giving a half ass wave. Patrick laughed at it as soon as the older man had closed the door; Jesse wasn’t present when he was recording with Justin so it senses that the guy might have needed a double take.

 

It was so humorous to him that the small man leaned against the back end of his own bus, to catch himself before he walked to bed; there was no explaining this Pete or Andy if either of them were in their bunks. With perfect timing, a specific man of mystery popped up to the bus parked next to his own. Patrick couldn’t tell if he had gone pale in the face or as red as the streaks in the guy’s hair but he felt like whatever it was he was feeling, this guy could see it.

 

“Well damn,” mystery guy exclaimed while wiping his mouth clean with the skeleton glove after taking a drink of water from his bottle. “Aren’t you adorable? Who let you back here?”

 

“I’m in a band, I’m supposed to be back here - er- I’m allowed to be back here,” Patrick stammered.

 

“Oh! Which one?”

 

“Fall Out Boy... I’m Patrick,” he added quickly while holding his hand out, trying to make this conversation as professional as possible.

 

“Bert, from The Used,” The now named mystery man introduced himself and took the shorter man’s hand. It wasn’t as terrible as the situation he had when he was first introduced to Justin, who kissed his hand like a flipping princess. Once they both had their hands back to themselves, Bert leaned against the back end of the bus, hovering over Patrick, “You are fucking adorable.”

 

“Oh uh, I’m... thanks?”

 

This was new.

 

“You into guys, or are you like that bassist in your band and it’s fine so long as it’s just above the waist?”

 

“I’ve got someone back home,” Patrick said aloud while finishing the sentence in his head with, ‘Who looks a hell of a lot like you and I’m getting some really confusing feelings but I’m not gonna act on it because you’re not Gerard.’

 

“That’s fine,” Bert said and took a step back. “They’re very lucky - but hey, look - if you ever change your mind about having someone during the tour, just let me know.”

 

With that, the older man left with a wink and a smirk on his face that left Patrick a little weak in the knees and more than a little speechless. “Holy shit...” he sighed. “Was I just flirted with?”

 

~~~~~

 

“I bought your album,” Gerard told his boyfriend once they got on the phone. It had been a little while since the two of them synced up their schedules and gave them an opportunity to talk on the phone. The older man had the whole room to himself, and he could take full advantage of it and have a second phone sex session, but he was more than happy to just to listen to Patrick's sweet voice singing in his ear. He was in a half decent hotel where this musician seminar was taking place, but he had waited for Ray to leave on a dinner meeting with some other independent artists before calling the other man. “It was in the store today.”

 

“Our album’s out!” Patrick shouted, not even into the phone which meant he was telling the rest of the band. “Holy shit!”

 

“Yeah! You sound amazing!” He elated. Gerard had been playing it nonstop to the point where it had irritated his friend. Then Ray had threatened to throw it out the window and he had to save it, even if it meant no longer listening to the sweet words his boyfriend were singing.

 

“Thanks! I've been meaning to talk to you about it, but I really wanted to tell you before it came out... but, you know there’s a guest one on of the tracks...?” Patrick whispered. “We got permission a week before it was supposed to drop to put it on there so it was a bit of a rush job.”

 

“The light on in Chicago song?” The older man rolled over on the bed so his head was closer to the charging cable that was plugged into the wall. He was enjoying the late night talk, and with Ray out of the room, it was like old times where the couple would talk endlessly until they fell asleep.

 

“Yeah... that’s Justin in there,” Patrick admitted.

 

“How did you guys...? Did he go to Chicago?” Gerard was confused, but that wasn’t anything new.

 

“No, we did it on the bus... oh god that sounded bad! Please don’t get mad,” the young man started jabbering quickly. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you and we rushed the whole damn thing; I mean, his band has recording equipment in their bus and it was so easy to get him to do that part, especially since Pete was doing it originally, like in poem form -“

 

“Like emo slam poetry?” The older man interjected.

 

“Hey, we’re not emo!” The younger one spat back before he caught the humorous tone in his boyfriend’s voice. “Wait! You’re not mad?”

 

“I got tickets to see you, remember? I knew Motion City was gonna be there, I just didn’t think you’d get to see them, let alone, collaborate with them. Well, that fast anyways.”

 

“So you’re not -“

 

Gerard practically threw himself back into the bed as he yelled back into the phone, “I’m not mad! Stop being so hard on yourself. All you did was make music with Justin, not _make music_ with Justin. At least your not fucking groupies, or managers, or singers.”

 

He heard a sigh of relief followed by, “The lead singer of another band hit on me.”

 

That was not what Gerard was expecting to hear. “Someone besides Justin?”

 

“Justin has been a gentleman, and yes, I get the irony,” Patrick admitted. “But besides jacking off in the shower or phone sex with you, nothing has happened; no fangirls getting handsy, no super flirtatious tech worker, or fucking anything until this singer flirted with me yesterday when we were packing up after the show.”

 

Of course, his mind went to the worst possible outcomes possible, but he still found the need to ask, “Did you do anything?”

 

“I didn’t even realize he was flirting until he left,” the young man laughed on his end. “So, no, I didn’t do anything, but I wanted to tell you just to be honest about everything. I feel like shit that it happened and even worse that I didn’t know it was happening until it was over.”

 

“Well, thank you,” Gerard replied. “I get why you didn’t wanna say anything at first, but thank you.”

 

“He kinda looks like you,” Patrick admitted. “I think that’s why I talked to him for so long before I realized he was hitting on me. In case something happens, like if he hits on me again, I want you to know now. If-if he does... I’m gonna tell him about you.”

 

“Or just say you’re not interested,” the older man offered. He thought of a way to de-escalate it because he wanted to protect his boyfriend from afar; however, he'd personally seen guys lose their shit over being told that there was 'someone else.' He'd seen it being taken as a lie and then the guy would be pissed off about being lied to. “Sometimes guys don’t believe you when you say you’ve got someone and then they get mad and shit. So don’t do that to yourself.”

 

“You think that’ll work?”

 

“Should.”

 

"God, I miss you," Patrick groaned.

 

He smiled and then admitted on his own, "I miss you too."

 

"I can't wait to see you again," the younger man said, this time much lower so his bandmates couldn't razz him for talking to his boyfriend like a group of guys would do to their friend.

 

"I'll be there soon," Gerard reminded him. "What have we got, like a week and a half?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of back and forth, but I found a way to make it work. I was stumped for a while.
> 
> (puns)


	9. And you're the only place that feels like home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me" by Fall Out Boy  
> (because irony)

Warped would be in New Jersey on Friday, go to New York on Saturday, and be back in Jersey on Sunday. That was three possible times Gerard could get visit his boyfriend. Sure they talked and junk, but phone calls and texts were only a band-aid onto how badly he missed his boyfriend. He needed to feel Patrick's skin up against him. Receive one of those bear hugs that the young man would give right before he'd leave the house. Feel that soft facial hair up against his own face.

God he missed Patrick.

He was all dressed up for the occasion; freshly dyed hair, button-down shirt in stark white, a black blazer, black jeans, and a striped tie. He was completely overdressed for the part with all of the teenagers in their graphic tees and cut off shorts, but this was a special occasion and he was gonna dress the part and milk it for all it was worth. He hid his bag of extras (clothes and accessories) in his car. He’d have to come back for them eventually, but right now, all he needed was his ticket. His ticket to Patrick.

The second Gerard walked through the gates passed security, it was evident that he was well overdressed; he couldn’t even get to the schedule vendor before he was bombarded with teenage girls thinking he was from some band. He notably rolled his eyes when he was passing two bucks over to the vendor, “Dear Lord, these teenagers. I don’t even know who the fuck the Used is...”

“Wait a few years,” the vendor replied. “They’ll start scaring the living shit out of you.”

The vendor didn’t have an official schedule of everything that was going on; he was selling printouts of the times the bands would play and stages they would be playing on. Gerard groaned a bit and made his way around the fairgrounds. Fall Out Boy wouldn’t be playing for a while so he had plenty of time to find the boys. There were booths for bands, booths for recording companies, booths for voting registration, booths for clothing brands, but after going around once, he couldn’t find the booth for his boyfriend’s band.

Until he heard Joe.

Clear as day.

“Pete and Patrick's fucking got rashes from using Febreeze on their pits! You think it wouldn’t be that fucking hard to ask for deodorant but it took them a week with those damn rashes for them to finally ask the people who buy us crap!”

The older man lit up at the noise of Joe losing his damn mind and walked towards the noise like he was walking on air.

Joe was flapping his arms around as he told the story, while Andy, Pete, and Patrick sat at the table listening as well as a few fangirls standing around. A few steps in and Gerard caught the attention of Pete, who silently eyed Andy not to say anything until Patrick caught them doing something stupid and looked up in time to see his boyfriend. “Oh wow!” The young man shot up and ran past his friend telling the story and straight into his boyfriend’s arms. “What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be here in like -“

“Two days from now?” Gerard acknowledged the change in schedule. “I took the time off, brought the car, knew I could get a ride back to it when I was actually supposed to be here.”

Patrick wrapped his arms tightly around Gerard as if... they hadn’t seen each other in months. “I missed you,” he sniffled. Without even thinking, the older man pulled the love of his life closer, and started rocking them side to side like they did when they first started dating.

God he missed Patrick.

Gerard then sat at the booth behind the band for hours, listening to ever tour story the band members had to tell, every fan who wanted to tell them how much they liked the band’s music, and the band members bickering at each other.

Andy was now in control of sharpies because the other three would play “Sharpie Wars” and mark one another on the arms while they were signing.

Joe had snuck off twice (so far) on the tour to get tattoos.

Patrick wanted to be a homebody every stop, but Andy would pull him out bus almost every other day.

“Speaking of the bus,” Patrick repeated. “We’ve got like an hour and a half until we play.”

“Oh good,” Gerard replied until he saw the look on his boyfriend’s face. “Oh!”

“Lemme just...” the young man tried to get the bassist’s attention. “Hey, Pete!”

The other man wasn’t paying attention but was deep in conversation with Joe about something stupid. Patrick sighed heavily in annoyance but grabbed one of the sharpies he was allowed to use and showed Andy another reason he couldn’t have a marker and threw it at Pete. The other man snapped back with his whole body and looked back, “What up?”

“You want it before or after the show?” Patrick asked Pete as if Gerard wasn’t standing there listening to them plan out their sex lives.

“After,” the heavily tattooed man replied. “I want to ride the high of the show into my boning.”

“Ew.”

~~~~~

The second the bus door closed, the two of them were all over one another. Patrick started with his hands in Gerard’s back pockets to feel up his boyfriend, but somewhere between the kitchen and the couch, buttons started coming undone and their hands were becoming far more grabby. The singer had his older boyfriend pinned against the small kitchen counter while Gerard had his hands threading through Patrick’s hair once he got that hat knocked off. Wasn’t the first time, and if Patrick had anything to do with it, it wouldn’t be the last time there’d be a hat causality in their lovemaking.

“I don’t...” Patrick started to say between kisses as he pulled Gerard onto the couch and then had his boyfriend over top of him. “I don’t have anything to fuck you with.”

“I just brought lube,” the older man admitted. He hadn’t thought that far. His whole train of thought up until that moment had just been about how he was able to see Patrick again. He threw the lube in the last minute but even then it was just an afterthought when he had it on his person when he got through the gates.

“I have some too,” the shorter man sighed. “You want to go without...?”

It took a second for him to catch it. “Yeah,” Gerard agreed blindly. He was too caught up in the euphoria of the situation to realize what he was agreeing to for the most part, and it might come back to bite him in the ass. “We’re clean. We can do it without a condom. Unless you’ve been hooking up with some groupies.”

Patrick literally laughed out loud at his boyfriend’s poor humor. “Please! Like they’re interested in me!”

The older man laughed back, even if it was a bad joke, as he pulled Patrick’s pants down. “Who wouldn’t be?”

The young man wasn’t packing, so once his pants and underwear were around his knees, he was bare to the world. Gerard didn’t put much thought into it before he was on his knees in front of his boyfriend, sucking the tiny throbbing cock into his mouth. Slowly, Patrick’s head fell back onto the couch and his knees spread even further apart, making it even further now that Gerard had pulled his shoes off and had managed one pant leg onto the floor. He was lapping at the cock like a hungry animal before a tight grip pulled at his hair and his head to pop up into Patrick’s view. “I wanna try something.”

Gerard had a confused look; he was just buried in the soft curls on his boyfriend’s crotch and the young man pulled him up to ‘try something.’ He nodded, giving the okay, despite not knowing what it possibly could be. He trusted the young man.

“Okay, I can‘t really go down on you,” Patrick admitted while bringing himself off of the couch and pulling his boyfriend into the same spot so they could switch places. “Gotta save my voice, but there’s something I saw on those videos that I wanna try when we’re done. Please?”

“Yeah,” Gerard agreed with a nod of his head. He saw the desperate look in his boyfriend’s eyes; Patrick was a tad on the uneasy side over this experiment. However, Gerard couldn’t figure out what on earth could possibly make his sweet little Patrick so anxious. “Of course.”

With that, the young man continued to strip; pants and underwear pooled onto the floor, his shirt and binder finding their way in the same general area before Patrick put his hands to work with getting his boyfriend’s dick out and ready for him. Gerard was already hard and his manhood was displaying itself proudly; somewhere between his boyfriend being naked on the ground of the tour bus to the terrible possibility of someone walking in on the two of them while they were cock deep into catching up, he was terribly excited and horny beyond reason.

Patrick wouldn’t put the older man’s member into his mouth, but he licked it, sucked on the head, licked the length from the tip to his balls, and sucked on his balls then mixed and matched all of the choices he had made so far. Hell, Patrick made a bit of show with what he was capable of doing with only his tongue and his hands once he finally his boyfriend’s cock out on display. Gerard threw his head back and groaned; it was no where near as great as to when Patrick would deep throat him, but he would take what he could get and this was more than enough to make up for lost time.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Patrick told him, between a long lap from the head of the older man’s cock to the base just to suck gently on Gerard’s balls.

“Yeah...” Gerard groaned. “I ain’t gonna be too far from now. I haven’t even been touching myself while you were gone unless I had you on the phone.”

The young man moaned around the testicle in his mouth. Just the sight was getting Gerard off but he wasn’t going cum quite yet. Then Patrick started working him up, lips and tongue just on the sides and edges of his member, a tightening hand around the base of his cock, and a steady pace with both of factors quickening.

With a head tipped back and a “motherfuck” erupting from his lips, Gerard had to admit he was going to have to let go. “Okay, Patrick...”

“Sit up,” the younger man ordered. When the other man complied, Patrick explained further with, “You’re gonna cum _on_ me.”

“I’m _gonna_ what now?!”

“Please!” Patrick begged a hand now on either of his boyfriend’s knees. “You already said you’d do it!”

“I-I-I-I...” Gerard stammered. This was hot. A whole new level of hot that he never thought he’d get the opportunity to do in his life. After all, he was some plain ass need from New Jersey; no one was gonna let Gerard Way cum on their face, let alone the lead singer of an up-and-coming pop-punk band. “Okay... just... what do you need me to do? How are we doing this...? It’s not this difficult, is it? I’m totally making this worse.”

“No baby,” the young man protested while he took one of Gerard’s hands and guided it to his shaggy hair. “You’ve guy this, but it’s all gonna be you now. Just hold me in place with your hand while you finish yourself off with the other.”

“Okay... just...” Gerard winced, eyes shut for a second as he tried to edge himself a bit longer. He was getting a lot of once in a lifetime opportunities while dating Patrick, and even though they seemed to keep coming like a Smashmouth song, he still wanted to prolong the inevitable that came quite literally while having sex. But with that idea of dragging out their scene, Gerard had a wicked suggestion. “Want me to take control?”

“Like that night you marked me?” Patrick recalled back to when they first started dating and Gerard had not only forcefully dominated his young boyfriend in bed, but he also bit Patrick on the shoulder hard enough to leave a mark that lasted days. “Fuck yes.”

That “fuck yes” was all he needed; Gerard stood up and pulled Patrick’s head back, making the young man’s back arch up and his neck bend over, all in one swift move. He heard his lover moan something under his breath, which had to be good since the young man let out a shuddering breath afterward. The hand on his cock went to a furious pace, almost attempting to make up for the time he had drawn out so well.

His eyes were peering at every inch of flesh put on display for him. The young man grinding his hips back and forth on top of a foot that he had turned inward; giving his cock some form of relief. The bare torso that was heaving up and down in pure ecstasy. Patrick’s hands holding onto his legs for support. The way his boyfriend’s eyes were closed as he braced himself the onslaught of spunk. That pouty plump lipped mouth agape from every moan and groan that he admitted out of his lungs.

It was those damn lips that did him in. Had Gerard not been moaning so hard that his eyes were closed he could have actually seen how he painted one of Patrick’s cheeks, an eyelid, and the young man’s lips like a true artist. When he did peek out, he saw Patrick using his fingers to clear his eye but then licking his fingers clean with newly opened half-lidded lashes, peering up at Gerard like his own personal porno.

“Ah, fuck, open,” was the best he could get out before he stuck the head of his dying erection back into Patrick’s eager mouth, feeling one last belated jet of cum leave him into that warm mouth. It was the best way to end such a magnificent blowjob, even if it wasn’t exactly a blowjob.

Patrick popped off with a loud wet pop and sat back on his knees. “Good?”

“Yeah...” Gerard sighed as he fell back into the couch, arms stretching out to the back as far as he could manage. “How was it for you?”

“Fucking amazing,” the young man giggled, still scooping up cum off of his face and licking his fingers clean like it was frosting.

“Come here,” the older man beckoned and then pulled Patrick into his lap once the young man offered him a hand. He pulled his boyfriend into a kiss, mostly tongue trying to taste every corner of the young man’s mouth, but pulled away just to add, “I don’t even care if I’m tasting me. That was fucking hot.”

Patrick giggled again, like a schoolboy. “Thank you for divulging into my weird kinky side.”

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Gerard had to ask. Where did his sweet little Patrick (Who was he lying to? Patrick was kinkier and dirtier and hornier than he ever was.) get a wretched idea like a facial?

“Joe has his computer with him,” Patrick proceeded to explain quickly and honestly. “And it plays DVDs, including his porn, and I get a hold of it sometimes when I need a visual and that was one of the things that stuck with me.”

“I need to thank Joe.”

“Don’t you dare!” The young man spat out as he stood up from the couch and started walking towards the bunks. “He doesn’t know I use it!”

“You’re walking,” the older man realized and announced it aloud. “You didn’t cum.”

“It’s fine,” Patrick called out around the corner to his bed, looking for something behind the curtain. “I’m horny as hell though.”

“Oh, shit...” He groaned, resting his head on the back of the couch. “Give me like ten minutes; twenty tops.”

Almost skipping back with excitement and a bottle of lube in his hand, “Finger me while you catch up. And for the love of god, take your clothes off!”

Gerard looked down at himself; sure enough, he was still dressed from the blazer, dress shirt, tie, and jeans. His cock might have been poking out from his pants and his underwear, but every other part of him was still covered while his boyfriend was buck ass naked. “Yeah, I should.”

“Damn right,” Patrick agreed and plopped on the couch while spinning the top of the lube off so it could be ready for use.

He was already taking his blazer off, tie following shortly after when Gerard asked, “Are we fucking in your bunk?”

“No, we’re staying on the couch.”

“What is with you and this couch?”

“Like... the first week we were here, I took a nap on it,” Patrick admitted. “But when I woke up I was so horny that all I could think about was getting fucked into the leather until I was screaming for more.”

“Didn’t Pete say something about fucking some groupie or some shit?” Gerard spat back, pants and underwear and his special bat belt buckle all ending up on the floor. There was a look in Patrick’s eyes when he said it that made him think he had fucked up somewhere in the middle of that sentence. Maybe Pete had a girlfriend, or someone from another band, or a tech person. How was Gerard supposed to know who Pete was sleeping with while on Warped?

“Something like that...” Patrick answered. “Kind of thought you knew about that.”

“I don’t stalk Fall Out Boy for Pete, sugar,” the older man laughed. “It’s just for you.”

“Well...” Patrick brought them back to the task at hand. “We have Lysol wipes somewhere in here because we’re gross when we eat, but it should do the trick.”

“That’ll work,” Gerard agreed to it to the lazy method of cleaning. “Now, how do you wanna be for when we do this?”

The young man was already in position, back on the leather, shoulders against the arm of the chair that doubled as a wall since the couch was just put into a nook, and his legs spread apart with one of them slung over so his foot could sit flat on the floor. “Can I be on my back? I know it’s annoying that we do this position all the damn time like we’re some old couple that can only do it in missionary.”

“Shush,” Gerard giggled and took the lube away from Patrick just to coat two of his fingers in it. “I like you like this. I get to see your face better anyway.”

He pulled Patrick’s leg up onto his hip, letting the other one remain on the floor, while he slowly, tantalizingly, traced the edge of the young man’s entrance. “Then I get to see all of your pretty faces.” Like the one Patrick made when he first finger finally entered him. Perfect pout with his mouth. Eyes fluttering closed. It just got better the more Gerard moved the digit around, loosening his boyfriend up.

Gerard pulled back just to add another digit, Patrick arching up with it. “See,” he repeated his sentiment. “So pretty.”

Patrick mewled at the sensation. He didn't have a special spot like his boyfriend did, but Gerard knew how to work his body just the same. By the time he had been worked open enough for three fingers, the lot of them had been moving against one another, opening him up even further. The young man had leaned up just enough to grab Gerard's biceps and beg, "You need to get hard faster."

The older man smirked at the revelation that he was breaking Patrick down, and even more so when he used his less dominant hand to gently stroke his boyfriend off with two fingers. "With a sight like this, I'm surprised I'm only half hard."

One of the young singer's hands jerked away to grab hold of the hand on his cock. "Please..."

Gerard sighed. Patrick was quite the sight, begging and desperate, but he was still uneasy about what was to come, or _rather_ how he was going to come. "Okay baby," he agreed to stop and pulled both of his hands away just to wipe it against the fake leather of the couch. Once the lube bottle was recovered, he reapplied a generous amount onto himself and then readying his manhood up against Patrick's opening.

If only he could urge himself to actually push through.

“You okay?” Patrick squeaked and looked up at him, noticing how skittish his boyfriend was.

“I’m...” the older man stalled. “I’m nervous.”

“Nervous?” The younger one asked with a chuckle.

They had done this plenty of times, there wasn’t anything to be nervous about. Gerard’s eyes sank down to stare at his dick. It was uncovered. That’s what scared him. The last time he had sex without a condom was his first time. Ever. There wasn’t anything to be nervous about but there he was. “This... this is a whole new step for us,” he stated his thoughts aloud. “Just the change is freaking me out.”

“Hey,” Patrick sighed. He put his hand underneath the older man’s chin to push all the attention up to him. “I get it. This is new. It’s different. But it’s good, right?”

The older man nodded but his eyes sunk back down and his hair continued to hide his face.

“C’mon,” the younger one beckoned him and sprawled out on the couch. “This part we’ve done before. It’s afterward that’ll be different.”

“Oh god,” Gerard groaned. He knew what that meant and it made him second guess what was going on in his head so he could concentrate on what was going on with his cock. “Are you gonna let me?”

“I just let you cum on my face and now you’re going to question cumming in my ass?” Patrick sassed back.

“It’s very different,” Gerard tried to argue. “I mean... we’ve done a lot of things, but this is a step for commitment and monogamy that I don’t know if we’re ready for yet, especially because of how young you are and -!”

Patrick cut him off with a kiss. The smacking noise from when they parted was wet and loud. “Baby, the amount of shit we’ve been through and you’re freaking out over sex.” He smiled sweetly. “Never change.”

“You’re really not freaking out about this?”

“No,” Patrick sighed. “I just want you to okay with this. I don’t want you feeling weird about having sex right now.”

“I don’t... as long as you don’t,” Gerard lied.

"Baby, please..." the young man eased his boyfriend closer with his arms. "We can stop. We can do something else. We can wait until we can get some condoms, it's not like there aren't gas stations around here."

Gerard took Patrick's mouth within his own, letting his body hover over the young man's, while he finally made the push he needed to get just the head of his manhood. The kiss went into an open gasp as the sensation washed over him.

"How's it feel?" Patrick asked against his lips.

"Like..." Gerard panted, still not moving any part of him further into Patrick's body. "If fucking you while wrapped is a nine, this is off the charts."

Two sturdy legs went around his waist to pull him closer, further, deeper. They both cursed until Patrick moved the two of them with his legs. After that, they were gone, just a series of groans, moans, whimpers, and sighs. Gerard sat up as straight as he could manage and sped up the pace of his hips just for Patrick to attempt the same, meeting the same rhythm back with his own, and slamming back against the older man.

Patrick shuddered with each thrust until they sped up fast enough that all he could do was gasp and call out. Anyone by the buses would know these two were fucking each other's brains out and the singer wasn't subduing any of his moans to try and hide that fact. "Ah fuck..." he groaned when one of his legs were pulled up from resting on Gerard's hip to further up onto the older man's shoulder. That move was totally from some porn the two of them had seen, obviously not together or it would have happened sooner, but Patrick was somewhat shocked he could bend that way. "Ah fuck!"

"God, yeah," the older man groaned back. The heat from all over his body started to pool in his gut, desperately wanting to explode out of him at any moment if he could just get the right angle, or thrust, or something that send him over the edge! For once, he didn't want to make it last! He needed this to finish up fast for the sake of his sanity and his balls. "I'm not gonna..."

"Same..." Patrick admitted and pulled the older man in closer with both of his arms. "Harder."

Gerard didn't think he could until he was commanded, but he was able to piston himself even harder.

"I said harder!" the young man ordered and it just made his boyfriend gasp out in agony.

"I can't... I can't!" Gerard couldn't last. This was like listening to a full symphony when he was just used to a CD. It was a miracle he made it so far.

"Come here," Patrick ordered, grabbing the older man by the back of the head and then holding him in that crouched-over position; Gerard could go in even deeper that way. Patrick, on the other hand, had to change positions a tad, one leg dropping to the floor while the other was still guiding his boyfriend further into himself. The older man was going way too fast at this point for Patrick to even try to keep up; so he held on tight and took full advantage of being plowed into while not having to work for it. He lost himself chanting out, "Come on baby, come on baby, come on baby..."

As if those chants were giving him permission, Gerard lost himself. A few more thrusts and he started bucking deep into Patrick, losing himself to the waves of the pleasure that flowed through him, finally forgetting about the safety net he was worried about before. One, two, three strong thrusts and the last of him was spent, plunging deep into the awaiting body beneath him. He could feel the difference more so then; his manhood being enveloped in that sweet heat and the feeling of his cum actually leaving him just for him to pull out and stroke himself to absolute completion as he was too engrossed in his own orgasm to realize anything else was going on.

Even with his chest heaving, strings of hair curtaining his face, and quite literally having his hands full, Gerard realized something crucial hadn't happened for the second time that afternoon that had happened to him. "You didn't cum?"

"No," Patrick squeaked out.

Still, as Pete so appropriately said it earlier, riding the high of his climax, Gerard bent down onto the floor, pulled Patrick's legs down with him and splayed them open before feasting upon the cock in front of him. If he could even get the young man to feel a fraction of how good he felt, then it would be worth it. He started with one long lap at the mound of hair before he devoured the dick before him. It had more than enough length for him to move it around with his tongue as well as bring the whole piece of flesh into his mouth to suck it down forcefully. When he felt a hand grip at his hair, Gerard looked up the body he was pleasuring before him to see Patrick, mouth agape, eyes twisted, and his other hand pulling at a nipple.

"I don't want to lose any hair," Gerard joked and then blew his breath onto the wet flesh in front of him, making the other man tremble.

"Then fucking do it," Patrick cursed at his boyfriend.

He took that as an invitation to go crazy, licking and lapping like it was fucking ice cream, letting his tongue occasionally graze the opening before him. Patrick was steady moaning above him, pulling his head further in between the set of the legs, urging Gerard to get the job done. When Patrick started rolling his hips up into Gerard's face, the older man knew his boyfriend was done for. Sure enough, that hand on his head pulled him even closer, almost to the point where Gerard couldn't breathe, and the legs around his head closed in on him like a cave. Gerard knew to grab hold of those legs, not only for him to not lose balance but also for Patrick to not fly off the handle and end up on the floor. The young man was practically singing a series of, "Oh my god" and "Right there" as he bucked into his boyfriend's willing face. Finally losing himself and control of his limbs, Patrick fell back with a loud groan, letting himself be anchored into the couch while he ultimately climaxed. When the sensations got to be too much, he finally took hold of Gerard's hair and pulled the older man up and away from his crotch. "You gotta stop!" Patrick whimpered while his legs were bouncing away from him.

The older man pulled far enough away to push both of Patrick's legs together and rest his chin on the young man's knees while he watched his boyfriend come back to reality. The grip on his hair had relaxed and soon turned into pets like he was a dog being rewarded for doing a good job. "You feel better now?"

"More than better," Patrick admitted, breathlessly.

"Is your voice gonna be okay?" Gerard asked, noting how scratchy it was sounding. Not quite horse, but still bad enough that Patrick might be worried about his performance. Speaking of... "And when do you need to get back?"

"I don't..." the young man grumbled. "What time is it?"

Gerard scrambled a bit for their clothes until he found his pants, and then his cell phone, and then the time. "Like 12:15." He was almost a little ashamed that they hadn't killed more time. He thought they had easily spent a few hours on that bus so far.

"We're on at 1:30," Patrick announced. "I'd like to be there at 1, so..."

"Why so early?" He stayed at the floor, head leaning against his boyfriend's knee.

"I like watching the other bands play," Patrick admitted. "Think we have time to shower and get back?"

"We can do that. Let's get you cleaned up," the older man said, taking on full responsibility as a caregiver at the moment. He went to grab their clothes but Patrick protested.

"I have other underwear I can wear," the young admitted. "So if you can just grab my pants, I'll throw everything else in a bag."

"Cool," Gerard nodded at it. He didn't have anything extra that wasn't still sitting in his car, so what was on the floor was all he had could put back on.

Patrick had gotten up and was walking back towards the bunks when Gerard had their clothes off of the floor. "Just put the clothes on the bunk here. We can get dressed when we're done."

"When we're...?" the older man started to question until he saw Patrick slip away into what he thought was a closet, but then it clicked that it had to be a shower. "Oh!"

It was quite literally just a shower past the door; no sink, no tub, no bells, no whistles. It did have a small nook filled with shower gels and shampoos as well as a small ledge that could be used as a seat for someone with no ass or as a prop for someone to shave their legs. Patrick already had the water going and was popping open a bottle when Gerard closed the door behind them. "C'mere baby," the young man urged him over. There wasn't a whole lot of water to cover the two of them at once but if they were right on top of one another, then they could share the space.

Next thing he knew, Patrick was washing his hair. "It wasn't that dirty."

"Yeah, but my fingers got all up in it and you know..." Patrick trailed off but then pushed up on his toes to kiss Gerard's pouty lips.

Gerard purred into the kiss and was so caught up in it that he didn't notice the young man grinding up against him until his cock was half hard and up against his boyfriend's thigh. "Oh Lord," he groaned.

"Think you can go again?" Patrick asked, his lips hovering above his boyfriend's, shower water raining down between them.

"Maybe..." It had been a long time since they had been together and while they had certainly caught up on lost time, it might have also been too much too fast. But once a hand ended up on his member that wasn't one of his own, he knew he could make it one more time. "Fuck. Do we have lube?"

"I can grab it," Patrick offered. Before he could get an answer, he left the shower, leaving the door open to go grab the bottle from the couch. With the door open, the older man got a great view of Patrick's wet ass, and he put on a show. Bending over, shaking it a bit as he looked for the lube, and then turning himself around with a pep in his step; all the while, Gerard was stroking himself to a complete hard-on. "Ready?"

"Get in here," Gerard ordered and slammed the door closed once he had his lover back in his arms. Patrick started to kiss the older man until Gerard pushed the young man away and against the wall. He pulled the lube bottle out of his boyfriend's hand to pop open the top and slick up his own dick and then added two of his fingers into Patrick's already opened-up ass. His other hand was used to grab hold of Patrick's shaggy hair and hold him place and ask a question in his ear, "Think you're ready for me?"

"Fuck yes," Patrick gasped. The older man was rubbing the head of dick up against the ready hole and steadily teasing it just enough to piss Patrick off. "God, fuck me already."

Didn't take but a second for Gerard to jam his cock deep into Patrick, making the young man buck and scream out. The older man still had a steady grip on the other man's hair, but once he was quite literally balls deep in his boyfriend, he had his other hand leaving fingertip deep bruises on Patrick's hip. The pace was brutal, one where Gerard was hell bent on getting off for the third time that day (which was more than either of them should have done) and he knew it wouldn't be long before he did.

"Put your foot on the ledge," the older man ordered between his thrusts. "I can fuck you better."

Patrick did as he was told, but even then, his hand wandered without permission to stroke his aching dick. He was obviously in the same boat Gerard was. The young man whined against the wall, “Hurry up! Hurry up!”

“You gonna cum?” The older man asked, still keeping up with his thrusts.

“Yes! And...! And we’re gonna run out of hot water! I’m not fucking you in a cold shower!”

In an effort to get them both off, quickly, Gerard dropped his hand from Patrick's waist to his dick and aggressively stroked Patrick to completion. Patrick had an arm on both sides of the shower for stability while he moaned out in a voice so beautifully, Gerard could claim his boyfriend was singing. The older man was still holding him up as the young man's legs started to go out like they always did, all the while, burying his cock deep and finally releasing himself with nothing more than a subtle groan. He was amazed he was able to produce anything to ejaculate, let alone, any noise out of his mouth.

"Co..." Patrick muttered.

"What baby?" Gerard asked, taking over that nurturing side of him again to take care of Patrick.

"C-cold..." the young man repeated, mentioning the cold water that was hitting both of them in that tiny shower.

"Oh shit, yeah," the older man exclaimed and went to the little nook of shower gels and shampoos so that they could get cleaned but the younger man protested.

"No, I'm good, let's just..." Patrick reached over and turned off the water. "We can clean up later, but I'm... I'm done."

"Got it," Gerard laughed and helped the other man out of the shower.

There was a small cabinet next to the shower filled with towels that were able to use to dry off, each drying each other off. Patrick had clothes underneath his bunk that he changed into, while Gerard put on his clothes from earlier. Patrick made a snide joke about them being on a romantic getaway while he put his hat back on and it made them both laugh, like, ugly laugh. They shared a small kiss before putting their shoes on. Then they started to make their way back to the fairgrounds, and back to the reality that was Patrick's job.

“The next time I cum will be like three weeks from now,” the older man groaned as he got off of the bus to see his boyfriend smiling and standing there for him, giddy and excited. The two of them started to walk back towards the fairgrounds when Gerard placed his arm across the young man’s shoulders to keep him close while they went back to Warped Tour.

“So I just realized...” Patrick grumbled while and put an arm around Gerard’s middle, still steadily walking next to him.

“Yeah?”

“We finally had shower sex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very late update, sorry guys.  
> I'm in a band now, where I play bass and write most of the lyrics (I feel like fucking Pete without the charm), so Haunted Grounds now shares the second place of my writing priorities with another series.  
> So Warped Tour was supposed to be one long chapter but now it'll be like three different ones but we'll see how it goes.


	10. When the lights go out, will you take me with you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Summertime," by My Chemical Romance.

The two of them were walking from the bus lot to the fairgrounds hand in hand, leaning against one another, nudging faces into shoulders and sneaking quick pecks like lovesick teenagers. They had missed one another so much and up until that moment, they hadn't taken it in for all it was worth. It was somewhere between a group of fans asking for an autograph, which ended up being for Gerard since they thought he was the lead singer of a different band, and the two of them checking out shoes at the Vans booth, the older man was kissing the back of Patrick's neck and it knocked the hat right off the singer's head.

 

"Oh shit," Gerard laughed as he picked up off of the ground, dusting it off for a moment. "Let me not lose your hat."

 

"Yeah, I need it," Patrick laughed back. "Can't go on stage without it."

 

"Not the worst thing to need to get on stage," the older man grumbled.

 

Patrick must have picked up on what Gerard meant and it ruined the romantic moment they were having before they needed to get to the stage. He paused for a minute, staying quiet while Gerard walked away from the booth. "How are you doing?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You know what I mean..." Patrick whispered when he got closer.

 

"I uh..." he trailed off. "I told you how I was doing, and everything I did."

 

Patrick's arms snaked around Gerard's middle and his big doe eyes looked up with pure concern. "You were just telling me parts because I was on tour. How are you really doing?"

 

"I uh..." Gerard repeated while he let his hands rest on his boyfriend's hips. "There have been moments I don't tell you about, but it's never been so bad that you needed to worry."

 

"Like what? Tell me."

 

He started telling Patrick everything that the young man missed. He started with how his brother broke up with Gabe and then Gerard had to set up boundaries to kick Mikey out of his support team when his brother drunkenly called him one night, which made Frank the primary babysitter. Then he told him about the time he got sick and left work and Frank slapped the Nyquil out of his hand, but overly stressed out he didn't take the medication. Then Pencey Prep got a short tour, to Chicago ironically, and then he went on a trip with Ray one weekend just to get out of the apartment. But then he told Patrick something that had just happened the weekend before.

 

"I realized after a while, that if I could occupy my time and my mind with work, I could get through the week easily," the older man admitted. "But then I'd get home and I'd start thinking about other things or letting my mind wander to other crap, so I'd find other things to do but after a while, you run out of stuff to do. But um... I started working on something new."

 

"New?" Patrick questioned it. "Like how new?"

 

"Like uh..." then he started explaining in greater detail between the Vans booth and backstage. Lindsey messaged him one night, just talking about general artsy things when the two of them came to the conclusion that neither of them had really done anything artistic for the sake of art in a-long-fucking time. She was swamped with blog stuff and he was so preoccupied with The Breakfast Monkey that he never did anything that wasn't work related. The next Sunday, she showed up at the apartment with a whole portfolio full of papers and gessoed canvases and a few cases of oil paints and turpentine bottles, yelling something like, "'Bust out your markers, motherfucker! We're making shit today!'"

 

"Did you bust out your markers?” Patrick asked on, giggling at the idea of Lindsey showing up at their apartment ready for an art war.

 

"I actually started writing again," Gerard admitted and he was becoming excited as he explained it. "I came up with these stories about kids with superpowers, and dinosaurs with laser beams on their heads, and intergalactic time travel - " Patrick giggled, and the older man misunderstood " - I'm sorry, do my ideas make you laugh like a teenage girl? No offense to the teenage girls here."

 

"No, no, no," Patrick said laughingly as he calmed himself down. "I'm just happy you've found something to work as anti-drug."

 

"And pancakes."

 

"And what?"

 

"Pancakes." Because breakfast would always be his favorite meal, it was the only thing he kept in the apartment while Patrick was gone. He was eating breakfast for dinner and sausage biscuits for lunch while at work. So, when that fateful Sunday came around, the only food Gerard had to offer was, "Pancakes. Lindsey and I decided once a month, we're getting together at someone's place, doing our own stuff, all while eating pancakes."

 

"Just on Sundays?"

 

"Maybe. Sunday Pancakes."

 

"I love you so much," Patrick giggled again.

 

The two of them walked up the backstage area and they could see from a mile away that Pete was lit up like the Fourth of July when he saw the couple coming up to the band; Patrick could get back there with his pass and Gerard could back by being dragged there by Patrick. "Oooh," the older man purred at the couple. "You bunch of dirty birdies."

 

"You’re one to talk. You’re gonna fuck your little groupie after the show," Gerard reminded the other man, still clearly not knowing who this mystery person was. Patrick had plenty of opportunities, but he did agree with his friends not to tell his boyfriend about Pete's side action. The two bandmates shot a look at one another but Patrick cut it off with a finger to his lips. Gerard eyed his boyfriend before looking back at Pete with a, "Whatever."

 

"How much time we got?" Patrick asked his bandmate, redirecting the conversation back to their performance.

 

"They -" Pete pointed at the tech people who were taking down the stage, quickly and accurately, in such a way that they should be given medals as opposed to cash "- started about five minutes ago. So, maybe... another twenty-five and we're on."

 

"And Gerard can stay back here?" Patrick asked while pointing to the ground. They were behind the stage, but more to the side; Gerard could see the entirety of the stage from the side, but more so, he could see the front center, where he knew Patrick would be while performing. Maybe he could stay where he was and stay out of the way but still see his boyfriend and the rest of the band.

 

"From what I gathered," Pete said with a shrug. There was a sudden roar of cheers from the crowd standing at the Volcom Stage. The band turned to see the banner for Washington Social Club drop and the one for Fall Out Boy to rise up as their backdrop. The band was nothing but smiles. "And now it's our turn."

 

There was a feeling in Gerard's gut like his stomach was going twist its way out of his body, and he needed to say something. "Aren't you nervous?"

 

"No," Patrick replied confidently. "I've been doing this for about a month now. It's almost second nature now."

 

"Damn," Gerard gasped. "You were made for this shit."

 

“I still get a little jittery, but you know... these are my friends, they got my back.”

 

The older man would always be a little jealous of it; having a group of friends that would kill for one another, kicking ass in the music world, and traveling with one another all through this common goal. Sure he had Ray and Frank for music shit, and he’d need out with Mikey from time to time and Lindsey was his right hand woman as far as his artistic interests went, but he would never have something as intimate as Patrick had with the rest of the members of Fall Out Boy.

 

“When we’re done, I’m gonna drag you around to meet some of the other artists,” Patrick offered. Gerard blindly agreed but his younger boyfriend continued on. “Especially The Used, I think you’ll like them.”

 

“Isn’t that the band that the lead singer was-“

 

“That hit on me? Yeah,” Patrick reaffirmed him. “I kind of want to push you in his face so he knows I’m with someone.”

 

“So...” Gerard groaned as he wrapped his arms around Patrick’s middle and dug his head into the back of the young man’s shoulder. “You just wanna show me off?”

 

“That’s it,” the young man giggled at the thought.

 

They stayed like that, cuddled up against one another, while they waited on the stage to be set up. The two lovers continued talking to people, band members and crew alike while still in that position as if it was something normal. Hell, they were gonna make it normal. The couple finally had to pull away when the stage was finished, but Patrick left with a simple kiss on his boyfriend’s lips for good luck and the gentle reminder of, “The first song is still not about us.”

 

What could have came off like an omen just lit him up because he knew what the first song was. The band didn’t even introduce themselves once they were on stage, that’s what the banner was for, they just jammed straight through the intro and right into the heavenly voice that ran onto the crowd the words of their generation, “Am I more than you bargained for yet?”

 

Joe, for the most part, was standing between Gerard and Patrick on stage and would have the older man shift in place from beside the stage so he could see his boyfriend better. Regardless of what he could see, he could hear his boyfriend perfectly and he silently sang along to the music. “Cuz I’ve been dying to tell you...”

 

It wasn’t until the chorus of the song that Gerard realized the crowd was singing along. The crowd knew the words. Fall Out Boy was big enough now that a crowd of strangers of Warped Tour knew the words to their song. He lit up like a Griswold Christmas tree as he kept singing along.

 

“Drop your heart, break your name...”

 

The older man was suddenly nudged by a crew member behind him, and before he could get anything out he was asked, “Do you know the band?”

 

“Yeah, they said I could be back here,” he explained quickly before the other man shot him down.

 

“You’re fine, I just noticed you smiling like an idiot back here, and I just wanted to know if you knew them personally or some shit.”

 

Gerard explained it as it hit him, “They just formed the band like six months ago and now they have a crowd singing their lyrics. I’m just happy for them.”

 

“You with that guitarist?” The crewman asked as he made a vague gesture with his hand that somewhat resembled hair, probably referring to Joe’s ridiculous mop that was going on.

 

“Nah,” Gerard replied as he leaned in to point out the band members properly. “See that one with the hat?”

 

“Yeah,” the other man replied as the band switched over to a new song.

 

“Well,” Gerard continued, a smile growing across his face as he said something he had thought about for a long time, but never had the opportunity to say aloud.“I’m gonna marry that boy someday.”

 

~~~~~

 

Patrick stayed true to his word and dragged Gerard around the buses. There were bands he had never heard of, bands he had listened to for years, and bands he only knew through Patrick talking about the tour.

 

“Oh my god,” Gerard gasped out when he saw one bus in particular. “The Bouncing Souls are here?! Frank’s gonna kick my ass!”

 

“I figured you were gonna more excited about Coheed and Cambria,” Patrick added in nonchalantly.

 

Gerard’s head whipped around so fast, he almost got an instant case of whiplash. “Seriously?! And you brought me back here where I can talk to them?!”

 

“Just don’t embarrass me when you talk to them okay?” Patrick half heartedly pleaded as his boyfriend started walking further into bus yard, almost leaving him behind.

 

“You’re already dating me, you knew I’d be an embarrassment!”

 

Gerard ended up getting all close and personal with the guys from Thursday; all the men of which were bonding over the fact that they were all from the same North Jersey post-punk music scene. It wasn’t as if he didn’t get the opportunity to talk to other musicians, but it was something special for him to see guys he saw play a VFW hall getting the respect they deserved at Warped Tour. He didn’t come off too much as a creepy stalker fan, thankfully, but Gerard did catch Geoff making a comment about other North Jersey people.

 

“So what did Geoff Rickly mean by ‘other Jersey tagalongs?’” Gerard asked, point blank, as his boyfriend continued to drag him from bus to bus. “Are there people just hiding out by the buses and trying to get free rides between stops?”

 

“I... uh...” the young man stammered and the older one knew something was up. “I was sworn to secrecy that I wouldn’t say anything.”

 

“Why would that be a bad thing? Is something wrong?”

 

“I swore I wouldn’t say anything, just for Pete’s sake,” Patrick admitted. “Which now I sound stupid for saying, ‘for Pete’s sake.’”

 

“Is this about Pete fucking a groupie?” Gerard was starting to piece all of the story together, but he didn’t still have enough of the pieces to solve the puzzle. “You guys were weird about it earlier, is he hooking up with some teenager from back at the college? Is she even younger than that?”

 

“It’s...” Patrick groaned and spun on his heels to face Gerard and the problem head on. “I can’t tell you, and you might be mad if you figure out the whole thing, so promise me when you learn the whole thing you’ll not be mad at me.”

 

“Oh my god, did he kill someone from Jersey and leave the body in Texas?”

 

“Oh god,” the young man gasped out. “I could only hope. Pete’s hooking up with someone you know... from back home.”

 

“And we can’t tell me, why?” How could this be worse than Pete killing someone?

 

“They’re being secretive about it; not telling anyone, trying to stay away from anything that could give the band bad PR, and not trying to make a big deal out of it.” Patrick groaned even louder and stuck his hands in his pockets as if the answers were hidden in there next to lint fuzz. “Pete’s always said he was gay from the waist up and now he’s trying things with this guy and they don’t want it be a relationship and they really don’t want anyone from outside of these bands to know what’s happening. Having a Tour only sexual partner isn’t a rarity, but this is Pete’s first _real_ gay experience.”

 

“Is it Justin?” Gerard still didn’t have a clue.

 

“No... but speaking of, they’re here too. That’s not gonna awkward is it?” Patrick asked as if the issue with Pete’s new boyfriend wasn’t enough.

 

“I don’t... it shouldn’t, you said he was being a decent human being,” the older man added.

 

“I know but... the last time you saw him, he was dating me,” Patrick added. “I just don’t things to be weird.”

 

“I’m standing in the middle of a parking lot with some of the greatest musicians ever to have lived, talking to you about your bassist possibly being bisexual, and you think running into one of your ex’s is going to be weird?”

 

Point taken, very well.

 

Patrick shrugged his shoulders. “I warned you.”

 

Gerard took the few steps that were between them to hook his arm under Patrick’s and get them to start walking around the parking lot again.

 

“So, do I need be sworn into this secret club of people who know Pete Wentz’s dirty little secret?”

 

“Kind of, but we - “ Patrick needed to emphasize a bit with his own quotation marks “ - like the band ‘we’ - were concerned about you getting mad because you know this person he’s dating, so we decided not to say anything to you and that it was up to Pete to say something about it on his own accord.”

 

“Is it Gabe Saporta?” Gerard was narrowing down the options in his brain, even though he was nowhere near the answer that should have been right in his face.

 

“No but I feel like you’re getting warmer.”

 

“Frank?”

 

“And now you’re sinking in the titanic with that iceberg of an answer. You’re getting colder.”

 

~~~~~

 

After they killed some time talking to band after band, Patrick used his clearance as a performer to get one of the golf carts to take them over to the parking lot of cars for the festival attendees. Gerard brought a backpack filled with clothes and toiletries.

 

“Do all of your clothes for this trip look like you were stood up on prom night?” Patrick teased once he saw the bag.

 

“Just for that, I’m wearing this outfit for the next three days.”

 

“No you’re not,” Patrick shot him down.

 

“If you can wear that dumb camo hat, then I can wear a suit in the middle of a hot Jersey summer!”

 

“No you’re not,” the young man repeated himself. “Do you need to move your car to an actual parking lot? When this stop is done, I think the Lion King plays afterwards. Don’t want your car to be towed.”

 

“Good, idea,” Gerard agreed and put his backpack into the ground. He was pretty sure his car would be towed to make room for a Broadway show. “Really don’t want to lose our only car.”

 

“I’ve got an idea,” Patrick announced and walked back over to the employee who drove them in the golf cart. “We’re gonna go grab food and when we’re done, I’ll text one of my bandmates to contact a rider to pick us up at the gates. Is that cool?” The golf carter didn’t really care less and just let the couple do their own thing and drove back to buses. Patrick however, looked very pleased with himself. “I think we’ve got a couple of hours until we need to be back on that bus or it will leave without us.”

 

“So that gives us time...” Gerard trailed off as he tried to figure out his surroundings. “I can hit the parkway and hit that lot by Tatum Park, and then we can call a taxi after we hit that hot dog place.”

 

“Hot dogs? You get a chance to wine and dine me and your first thought is hot dogs?”

 

“Best ones in Jersey,” Gerard added to his case.

 

They really were good hotdogs.

 

Patrick commented about them being good, but not being what he was used to and not being anywhere on the same level of the ones in Chicago, but still good. Gerard however, has just suggested hotdogs so he could see Patrick eating something phallic shaped, since the musician didn’t go down on him earlier that day.

 

“The tots are good too,” Patrick notes with a mouth full. The older man smiled at the comment but still gave most of his attention to the remnants of hot dog and bun sitting in front of his boyfriend. One question did make him snap up to attention, “Can I ask you something?”

 

He looked up at Patrick’s sapphire blue eyes and cherub like face smiling back at him. “What’s up?”

 

“I like spending time with you like this, just the two of us,” the young man sighed and rested his cheek in his palm. “I just worry about this whole music career thing messing with us.”

 

“Like how...?”

 

“You know, time away from each other, fame getting to our heads,” Patrick explained and then reset himself to rest back against the chair in his booth.

 

“So...” Gerard started up, thinking that Patrick’s question might have to do with the same thought he had while the band was performing. If he knew that a marriage proposal was going to happen with this impromptu date, he wouldn’t have suggested a hot dog place! “What’s your question?”

 

“Even if all of this -“ Patrick gestures towards his surroundings even though he meant the Tour, the music, and the band “- goes to shit in the next year, are you still going to be here?”

 

“I’m not leaving your side,” the older man reminded his boyfriend. “I might not be at every show like I promised, but I’m still going to be your biggest fan. The shows can stop but I’ll still be there.”

 

“What if Fall Out Boy goes on forever?” Patrick proceeded to ask.

 

“I’ll hold the fort down,” Gerard responded, quickly, as if he had this all memorized like an actor in a movie.

 

“Even if we have kids? And I can’t be there all the time, like my dad did?”

 

“You’re worried about that?”

 

“My dad split from my mom because he wasn’t there,” Patrick explained. “He wasn’t there for her, my siblings, and he definitely wasn’t there when I needed a male role model. I think about it a lot, how I wanted to be like him so badly that I might actually turn into him. I’ll be a musician just like him, but dammit, I don’t want to be a rolling stone, either.”

 

Definitely not the question Gerard was expecting but still not a conversation that should have been happening in a flipping hotdog joint in North Jersey. “I think the times are a little different now than they were back then. I’m not trying to give your dad an excuse, but they didn’t have cell phones back then. Like if we were a family right now, we wouldn’t be having phone sex in the bathroom of a Wendy’s, you’d be calling to read bedtime stories or I’d be sending you texts about stuff our kid was doing. Even if we had a dog, we’d be sending each other updates over the phone.”

 

The last one made Patrick laugh, which was just what he needed.

 

“I know you don’t have a good relationship with your dad,” Gerard said quietly. “But I think the big difference is how you want to be more than just a musician.”

 

“That’s what I’m worried about,” the young man admitted. “What if I wanted to be on tour all the time? What if I didn’t want to come home to you?”

 

“I got to see two sides of you today,” the dark hairedman pointed out as pushed some of his bangs out of his face. “I got to see the lead singer of a band in front of a crowd of people who knew the words to every song he sang, and then I got to see the love of my life have a mini meltdown over whether he’s going to be a bad husband or an even worse father because of the music he created.”

 

“I’m not -“ Patrick started to argue but he had to push a few tears out of his eyes. When his hands dropped down, his boyfriend scooped them into his much larger ones. “I’m not having a meltdown. I’m just worried about the future if this band gets anymore successful and the possibility of it all disappearing as soon as Warped Tour is over.”

 

“How about this?” The older man beckoned until Patrick looked him in the eyes. “Whether the band goes anywhere or not isn’t certain, but I’ll be there for you no matter what. You were there for me, and I’d like to say that this is the least I could do, but this is what people do for each other when they love each other.”

 

If he couldn’t deny the tears initially, he definitely couldn’t now. But at least this time, Patrick had a smile with it. “God, I love you.”

 

~~~~~

 

They got back to the bus before anyone else was there. Patrick liked it that way so he could take his clothes off in peace. It wasn’t as if any of the guys hadn’t seen his bare chest (and likewise since he had now seen everyone of his bandmate’s penises from being on tour with one another) but he made him feel more at ease.

 

“So I know we totally fucked on that couch,” Gerard pointed out as they walked past it. “But which bunk is yours?”

 

“This bottom one,” Patrick said between his shirt coming off and then binder being ripped off. “Left side.”

 

“That’s not the bunk you pulled lube from earlier,” the older man noted from their sex-escapade that morning.

 

“I know. I bought Pete a big jar one time we stopped a sex shop and he forgot his credit card.” Patrick had taken his pants off as well and had them hidden in a shitty laundry bag in the drawers underneath his bunk. “He told me I could use it whenever I need it to make up for me having to buy it.”

 

“I should be worried about the weird sex shit that happens with you guys,” the older man joked as he started to undo his tie again. “Can I just pitch my clothes with yours?”

 

“Yeah, but you’re taking them with you when you go,” Patrick added. “Laundry days are sparse and I don’t want you going home without underwear or pajamas.”

 

He had the jacket off and the shirt on the floor by the time he added, “Well I didn’t bring pajamas so we’re good.”

 

“What are you gonna wear?”

 

“My underwear.”

 

“Gah, why am I dating you?”

 

“Because of what I look like in just my underwear.”

 

“That’s definitely not it.”

 

“Where’s everybody else?” Gerard asked, ignoring the insult. It’s not like he wanted Pete to barge in on him half naked in the middle of the tour bus, but the couple didn’t exactly reserve the place to themselves.

 

“There’s this bonfire thing that happens some nights. Mostly when the tour locations are close together,” Patrick admitted they were missing out. “We could have gone, but I wanted time with you.”

 

“That’s so sweet,” the older almost cooed like he was talking to a baby.

 

“Plus now I get to fall asleep without Joe snoring.”

 

“That’s not so sweet.” Gerard his his dirty clothes in with Patrick’s and then flattened his backpack the best he could into the drawer while Patrick was walking around him. He did see his boyfriend grab the lube from earlier and stick into his bunk. “And that’s for?”

 

“If I can’t sleep tonight,” Patrick answered honestly and pulled the curtain back to reveal his bed. It wasn’t a MTV Cribs moment, but Gerard knew damn well that was going to be there where the magic was happening that night. Gerard went in for a kiss to start the magic show early but Patrick cut him off with a, “Really though, I’m tired. I’d like to sleep.”

 

“I feel ya,” the older man groaned, trying not to grumble or bitch about the change of plans. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

 

“You’re not old!” Patrick fought back.

 

“I’m closer to thirty than I am being a teenager,” he added as his boyfriend climbed into the bunk.

 

“Never mind, you are old,” the man closer to his teens joked. Gerard could have been mature about it, but instead, he pulled Patrick back out by the legs and then planted a loud popping kiss onto his boyfriend’s lips. The older man then took the opportunity to jump into the bunk first once his boyfriend was sitting on the bus floor. “Oh you asshole!”

 

Once comfortably seated inside of the bunk, Gerard started messing with things. He poked the light by its plastic and it popped back out with its light on. “Oh that’s neat.”

 

“It’s a closet light, don’t be too amazed,” Patrick told him as he climbed back into his bunk. The younger man closed the curtain and snuggled up to his boyfriend. He then took his hat and glasses off and put them in the little net cubby on the other side of Gerard’s head. “There’s even a little storage space. The top bunks have small shelves for books and junk but I didn’t want to roll out of it so I took a bottom bunk.”

 

“So you’re a bottom?” Gerard joked but his boyfriend rolled his eyes and hit the light again to turn it off.

 

“For now anyway,” the young man sassed back. “Wait until I get home.”

 

“Oh I can’t. It’ll be amazing,” Gerard sighed just thinking about it. He liked having control, but he liked giving it up to Patrick too. He looked over to see Patrick’s face for a reaction, and even though it was dark behind the curtain, the little bit of light from the bus shone through enough to tell him that the young man’s eyes were closed. “Damn, you really are tired.”

 

“Yeah... we discovered I sleep a lot after shows.”

 

“Well,” Gerard repositioned himself onto his side so he could be face to face with his boyfriend and let his arm relax around the young man’s middle. “Don’t let me stop you.”

 

Patrick gave a weak smile before he turned to his other side so he could spooned, like they would do at home. Just as Gerard tucked his head into the corner of Patrick’s shoulder and neck, the young man commented, “By the way, that fuzzy thing our feet are sitting on is the covers.”

 

“Got it,” the older man understood what he was being told and sat up enough to take the blanket by their feet and cover them up with it.

 

It didn’t take long for them to both doze off. Sure, Gerard was going to fight it, but he was tired too. He drove awhile, had three amazing orgasms (one of which was from having sex in the shower like he had been trying to do for so long), stood in a suit in the summer heat to watch his boyfriend perform, ran around the bus lot to meet famous people (while still in the suit), and then drove off to park his car in a real parking garage and eat some super fatty dinner foods. He loved the boy regardless, but he would have stayed up if Patrick wanted to.

 

There was a bunch of noise sometime later, possibly a few hours later or just fifteen minutes, of people coming on the bus and loudly talking. Then there a sudden and loud, “Shhhhh! Patrick’s sleeping!”

 

“I’m not alone,” Patrick commented dryly when he heard his name. He must have woken up with the noise too.

 

“Oh shit!” Gerard heard a voice, vaguely sounding like Joe and Fat Albert at the same time. “Patrick’s getting busy!”

 

Without moving the curtain, Patrick slid his hand under it, which earned him a throaty, “No! You go fuck yourself!” from Pete.

 

The young man pulled his hand back just to take the one around his waist up to his chest, holding it tightly. “Your friends are assholes,” Gerard whispered.

 

“But they’re my assholes,” Patrick replied. “I’m stuck with them.”

 

“Patrick,” they both heard before a foot came knocking at the drawer beneath them. “Did you take my lube?”

 

“My boyfriend’s here,” Patrick told Pete proudly. “Of course I took your lube.”

 

“Oh shit,” they heard Pete curse. “Patrick’s boyfriend’s here.”

 

Repeating what Patrick said didn’t bother Gerard as much as the way Pete said it. As if Gerard being there was a problem. He then heard a vaguely familiar voice quietly tell someone, “I can be quiet.”

 

“That’s Pete’s boyfriend?” Gerard whispered back to Patrick.

 

“Yeah,” the young man replied.

 

“Are you sure it’s not Gabe?”

 

“A hundred percent sure.”

 

Then they heard the sound of people scurrying around the cabin, getting undressed for bed, somewhat cleaned, and then into their beds. They were sure it was almost lights out when the couple heard, “Cmon baby, you can get on top.”

 

“Oh my god, Pete,” this mystery boyfriend groaned. “That wasn’t funny the first twelve times you said it.”

 

Gerard thought he recognized that voice well enough to decipher it now, but ultimately decided it couldn’t be his brother because they tell each other everything. Except for when Mikey went back to college. And when Mikey started dating Gabe. Then when Mikey broke up with Gabe.

 

“Nah, it couldn’t be,” he finally decided before trying to drift off to sleep again.

 

Except he couldn’t sleep.

 

After about thirty minutes of trying to fight with himself, he gave up and just started listing all of the things he could see through the crack of the curtain. Andy’s bunk was across from theirs, he could tell by the tattooed hand that eventually closed it further to block out more light. That meant Joe had the bunk above them and Pete’s was over Andy’s; he only figured that out from the direction Pete and his boyfriend went while they were talking. The only real noise was the sound of the road beneath them. They had started driving off awhile ago but time didn’t really make sense to Gerard anymore. He figured they’d be in New York in the morning when they all woke up, but that was just a guess.

 

He felt his boyfriend stir beneath him and it made him jump. He was so caught up in his own thought that he didn’t realize Patrick wasn’t asleep either.

 

“You’re not sleeping,” the younger man commented in the dark.

 

“I can’t. Don’t know why.” Patrick shifted a bit just to reach over both of them for the lube container he hid away earlier. Gerard didn’t need a whole lot of light to know what it was. “Seriously?”

 

“Maybe we can fuck ourselves to sleep?”

 

He thought about, probably for longer than he needed to, before Gerard caved in and grabbed the damn tub. “Fine.”

 

“You can finger me while on my side,” Patrick said as he shimmied his boxers down below his butt. “Then I can pick a leg up or move down for you to fuck me.”

 

The older man had to judge with a hand to the roof of them before he could say it, “Or I can put you on your stomach and take you from behind.”

 

“We gotta be quiet,” Patrick reminded him. “That’ll make too much noise.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Gerard told his boyfriend before taking the top off of the tub with a spin and sticking his fingers into it. Rather than liquidity lube he was used to, it was more of a cream, and it almost reminded him of the hair products his mother would use. “The hell is this?”

 

“It’s anal lube,” Patrick told him.

 

“What the hell have we been using?”

 

“Regular lube. Pete didn’t know what to get and he wanted this shit, but it’s for beginners.”

 

“How?” Gerard tested it between his fingers but it felt like a menthol paste version of vaporub.

 

“It numbs.” That explained the menthol. “Like I said, it’s for beginners.”

 

The wicked little thought went through Gerard’s brain about how his boyfriend was apparently an anal expert, but he kept it to himself as he fished around for Patrick’s ass to insert the first finger.

 

“Ah fuck,” Patrick groaned, missing the pillow and emitting the sound into the open space of the tour bus.

 

Gerard shushed him and then whispered into the young man’s neck, “Remember, there are people here.”

 

The young man nodded and then turned the pillow towards his face as opposed to the opposite. He hiked a leg up to give Gerard more access and it paid off in no time as a second finger quickly found its way inside of him too. Now the pillow was doing its job by blocking his noises.

 

“You good?” The older man asked, receiving just a squeak and a nod before continuing on with, “You want to go for three or do you want me go ahead?”

 

“I kind of want you to get up,” Patrick said quietly then guided the older man into what he wanted. “Just like, up on your hands for a second, let me get under you.” As if they weren’t already a tangle of limbs equivalent to tentacle porn one would only find when they go too far into the internet, he pulled up enough for Patrick to slide under him and have the younger man pick up his legs enough for them to work with one another. Patrick had both hands around the back of Gerard’s neck while the older man had his pants pulled down a tad and was prepping his own dick in line with Patrick’s body. “That’s good.”

 

“You want me to go for it or keep going with my-“

 

“Do it,” Patrick groaned, maybe a little loud for comfort.

 

Gerard nodded and pushed through, just barely getting the tip of his cock inside before he commented, “Oh shit it feels weird. The numbing shit.”

 

“I know, but it’s what we have on us - no, on you, in me,” Patrick laughed a little. “Just push through it.”

 

Ever so slowly, Gerard kept going further and further into Patrick until the younger man bucked up and cursed. “You okay?” The older man suddenly stopped to ask what had happened but Patrick pulled him in closer, just using his legs until Gerard bottomed out.

 

“I need this,” Patrick told him. “You’re not gonna break me.”

 

That was all he needed to hear to start rolling his hips upward making Patrick gasp out. The young man tore a hand away from Gerard’s neck to bury it in his hair as the other hand pulled him closer. Gerard has his hands on Patrick’s hips, trying to bring them both closer to completion. His brain was foggy and clouded and the only thing that was keeping him down to earth was Patrick’s constant kisses of lips and tongue and teeth pulling at his lips. He let out a shuddering breath against Patrick’s lips, “Oh shit.”

 

“You can go faster,” Patrick offered.

 

“I don’t want to make too much noise,” the older man whispered back. “Besides, I like taking my time with you.”

 

“God... dammit,” Patrick cursed again. Sometimes, hard and deep was the better way to get off, but the young man was always bothered by their usual sexual position. “Why are we always in missionary?”

 

Gerard chuckled about it, knowing damn well he was the one who put them in that position. “I get to see your face.”

 

“It’s dark.”

 

“I can still see you.”

 

He had a hand on Patrick’s hips and the other on the younger man’s cheek by the time he had bottomed out. It earned him a loud throaty moan that Gerard cut off with his lips. Patrick panted a bit when they parted but he still had enough air in his lungs to ask, “Can you mark me? I wanna feel you when you’re gone.”

 

Since Patrick started being a musician, they would do this. So far, it had been just the one night that Patrick had to go to a show and Gerard knew he was working overtime, but Gerard left a gnarly bite mark on Patrick’s shoulder and scraped up the younger man’s back with his nails. Best part: Gerard was bottoming that night.

 

Patrick ripped his shirt off and chucked it passed the curtain, possibly hitting either the floor or a nearby bandmate, to fully expose himself. The older man took a quick look at his boyfriend’s breasts before he tore his eyes away; he was at that point of being horny where just about anything turned him on further, but he knew better than to look at Patrick that way. Gerard brought his mouth back to his boyfriend’s neck, before whispering, “Where do you want it?”

 

“Shoulder,” the young man gasped out. “Just somewhere that’ll be covered.”

 

He kept his thrusts the same, slow and deep, while he took long lazy laps with his tongue to prep the bit of meat just below Patrick’s collarbone (so it wouldn’t interfere with any guitar playing). Gerard grazed the area with his teeth, taunting the younger man with the sensation. “I’m almost there,” he admitted into the patch of skin he was hovering his mouth over. He wasn’t lying either; the flames were building up in his lower abdomen, but at this point, he was just waiting for permission.

 

“Same...”

 

Gerard closed his mouth fast enough catch his groan from escaping and then muttered out, “Can you get yourself off? I need you to cum first.”

 

“How ‘bout you do it?”

 

Like Gerard wasn’t enough here. He was working his hips, his hands to keep up with his hips, and had his mouth ready to go to bite right into Patrick’s chest. He managed to squeeze a hand in between the two of them, snaking it between their bellies, and getting two fingers and a thumb to stroke Patrick off. “Good?”

 

“Y-Yeah...”

 

He knew what was about to happen just based a sudden twitch in Patrick’s leg. The young man’s arms tightened up around his back and across his shoulders and it was enough of a sign for Gerard to bite down below the collarbone for Patrick to get the full effect in midst of an orgasm. In addition to his arms tightening up, Patrick’s whole body tightened up around Gerard’s member and brought the older man to his own completion.

They were both going to be loud and Gerard had a plan in action as soon as he came to keep them both quiet. It was quick, moving from the smooth skin of Patrick’s chest to the chapped skin of Patrick’s lips to catch the groan into his mouth. The young man wasn’t in on the plan and he went from grasping at the edge of the mattress to hitting it repetitively with the flat edge of his palm.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” rang into the whole cabin and it wasn’t from either end of the couple as their orgasms were subsiding.

 

“I haven’t seen him in months, Joe!” Patrick snapped back with his boyfriend panting in his ear. “Get over it!”

 

“Some of us like to sleep at night so we can perform the next day!”

 

~~~~~

 

Everyone still managed to get enough sleep to perform the next day. Probably my not the recommended full eight hours that they occasionally got, but they were still doing better than they would back during their old college days.

 

It took the sound of grown men chattering about cereals to finally wake the couple up. “Breakfast time I guess?” Gerard asked the pillow that took over half of his face. He was spooning Patrick, still in the position they were when they finally fell asleep, and the younger man was just starting to spur awake.

 

“I think so... Pete’s friend is here too.”

 

“Do I need to wait for him to leave?”

 

“Maybe...”

 

“Seriously, though. Who is it? Why are you guys so worried about this? It’s the 21st century, men can fuck men. We can’t marry them, but whatever.”

 

“I’m not saying...” Patrick groaned. “Besides I’m still topless, I could less about who the fuck is on the bus.”

 

“Oh my god you are,” Gerard realized. He leaned over top of his boyfriend to reach outside of the bunk and snapped his fingers on the other side of the curtain. “Someone grab Patrick’s shirt!”

 

“Oh shit,” he heard that familiar voice say.

 

“And my dirty laundry,” Patrick reminded him, meaning the chest binder.

 

“And his laundry!” Gerard repeated and then heard a scrambling of feet of people. When it didn’t receive the proper response of Patrick’s clothes being given to him, he made a point of climbing over his boyfriend (while carefully keeping the curtain shut) and popping out into the open bus. When he was finally upright, Gerard came face to face with the familiar voice.

 

“Mikey?” His initial thoughts were right and he couldn’t wipe the look off of his face from the shock.

 

“Hey, Gee,” his brother replied.

 

“The fuck are you...?” The older way started to ask but he caught the culprit behind his brother. Gerard suddenly pushed past Mikey and beelined straight for Pete with a closed fist. “The fuck are you doing with my brother?!”

 

A combination of Pete dodging, Andy reacting in time to Gerard, and Mikey holding an arm out managed to keep the bassist from getting a black eye. Mikey had an arm around his brother’s neck while Andy was holding the dark haired man in place around the waist. Pete meanwhile was sitting on the floor, flat on his ass, staring back, shocked, with eyes the size of the moon.

 

“You’re hiding with Mikey?!” Gerard shot at the other man.

 

“Dude, you don’t understand!” Pete yelled back. “We’re not serious!”

 

Gerard was struggling a bit in the hold he was in, so Mikey started talking, “I knew you’d be mad, that’s why I told Pete not to say anything.”

 

“Why didn’t-“ Gerard snapped his body in the opposite direction that he was facing so he could be eye to eye with his brother. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

 

“I just wanted to try something fun, Pete wanted try something new, and then I got out the town for a while -“

 

Gerard cut him off, “You’re skipping classes?!”

 

“Don’t start with me!” Mikey snapped back. “I wanted to talk about my problems, but you ignored me! So I started to talking to Pete!”

 

“I was trying to get sober!”

 

The two brothers started yelling back and forth at each other until their boyfriends stepped in. Patrick, now dressed during the middle of the proverbial gunfight, pulled Mikey back while Pete put a hand on Gerard’s bare shoulder.

 

“I told you this would be hard, but just let him talk,” Patrick urged the younger Way.

 

“How about you and I talk alone?” Pete offered the older one.

 

“I uh...” Gerard stuttered until he made the contact with his boyfriend. He understood why Patrick was quiet about the whole ordeal, but it wasn’t Patrick’s fault. “I’m not mad at you, ‘Trick, I promise.”

 

The younger man nodded silently to keep from making the issue any worse.

 

Thankfully, Andy stepped in to save the day for a minute. “Mikey, Joe, and I all have clothes and can leave you two to talk. Patrick can put his shoes on give these two a minute.”

 

Patrick looked back at his boyfriend, not asking for permission, but rather, he was still apologizing for not being truly honest.

 

Gerard just waved him off, “I’ll be okay.”

 

Patrick found a pair of his shoes in his drawer to put on and followed the others outside, stopping only to kiss his boyfriend and wishing his friend good luck on the way out the door.

 

Finally alone, Pete pointed at the couch as a way to offer a seat; an offering for the conversation to be peaceful. The older man took it and the tattooed one followed suit. “Didn’t think you’d take it this bad,” Pete finally spoke up.

 

“Why are you hiding him?” Gerard growled.

 

“I uh - he’s not being shoved away in a closet, we just...” Pete seemed flabbergasted. He hadn’t put a lot of thought until now this was going to play out beforehand. “We agreed on this. He wanted something physical after his breakup with Gabe and vented to me about it and I told to come here on Warped with me on a whim - and I didn’t think he would do it! I was trying to be a good friend and then one drunken night be the bonfire... we were making out.”

 

“So you guys are just making out?” The older man asked for clarification. That wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had been lead to believe.

 

“No,” Pete winced. “It’s physical. Sexual. Just on the down-low.”

 

“Why?” Gerard asked again, still all out of concern for his brother.

 

Pete started rubbing his palms against one another. “The record company said we’d have better sales if our audience thought we were straight. We can be bi-curious, because that makes the fans ‘buy-curious,’ but I can’t be in an open relationship with another guy. Mikey and I got busted on one of the free nights we had; the two of us entered a club and when we came out, we had each other’s hoodies on. We weren’t careful.”

 

“And you’re letting this happen...?”

 

“No letting... just not fighting,” Pete sighed. “Mikey said something like... ‘the two of us aren’t going to last long anyway’ so I just try to enjoy what I have.”

 

“Do you like him?” Gerard prodded deeper.

 

“I uh... not to his face,” the other man admitted. “I really do, but I don’t want to fuck up what I’ve got either.”

 

“Might wanna tell him that,” Gerard added as he got up from the couch, heading towards Patrick’s bunk to grab some of his clean clothes. “Mikey deserves better than what you two have going on.”

 

“Don’t I know it,” Pete groaned. He looked over at the other man putting on a pair of black pants and another dress shirt. “Are we going to be okay with the rest of the tour?”

 

“Yeah.” That answer was short and direct but very easy to read into.

 

“Seriously, you don’t have to like me, but...” Pete sighed again. “Can we at least keep the peace while around each other?”

 

Gerard turned around from buttoning up his shirt to see that Pete had stood up from the couch. The other man was awkwardly standing near him as if he had something else to say but Gerard had to agree with him on keeping the peace. The older man held his hand out to shake on the deal, “I can do that. For Mikey.”


End file.
